


Let me stand by you (the honour is mine)

by derenai



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banishment, Canon Era, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derenai/pseuds/derenai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the King is travelling with his men, their group suffer an attack and Merlin is wounded. He has two options: to die or to reveal his magic. His choice to live leads to his banishment. The decision isn’t an easy one for Arthur and as he takes in the void left by the absence his manservant, he’s more than a little lost and conflicted. Yet he has no time to dwell on his feelings: bandits are roaming the Kindgdom and they could all be part of a plan to bring Camelot down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"This, Merlin, is absolutely delicious," Gwaine said licking his spoon.

"Thanks," the warlock answered and stood up to gather Arthur's and the knight's plates.

"It's a pity there isn't more, though."

"If we listened to you, Gwaine," Arthur noted, "we'd have to take two wagons only to transport the food."

"I don't see what's wrong with that."

"Let me think… Oh right, we're going to visit a village plundered by bandits. I'm sure they'd love to see their knights and King gorge themselves. Except if we gave them some of the food. Which isn't part of your plan, is it?"

Gwaine pouted and Leon chuckled. The mindless chatter was a way to forget about the difficulties to come. Merlin could feel how grim Arthur was despite the smiles. He could see it in his slumped shoulders and his slightly clenched fists. He knew Arthur too well not to notice his smiles were faked and his jokes forced.  The King surely wished he could do more for these people than just assess the damages, reassure them and promise they would do everything possible to hunt down those bandits. That wouldn't bring back the lives and possessions taken away. He couldn't even bring food as the winter was cold and hard and they barely had enough for Camelot's needs.

Merlin put the plates aside and sat next to Arthur, close to the fire. No one would blame him if he waited for the morning to do the dishes. He'd dreamt of this fire all day long and was surely not the only one to have done so. Nothing could take him away from the pleasant warmth coming from the flames. He might make some mulled wine later, if he had the courage to move again. Arthur loved mulled wine. It always brought a smile on his lips during their winter hunting parties and Merlin was desperate to see a true smile on his King's face, even a small one. Anything but the mask he was wearing and that didn't fit with the gloom in his eyes. Yes, Merlin would definitely do that.

Except not. Because as soon as he took that decision, Percival held out his arm, gesturing for the others to be silent. They all froze, listening carefully.

"What did you hear?" Arthur asked after a few seconds of total silence.

"I'm not sure. I-"

Just as he was going to add something, some dead wood cracked and they all heard footsteps. Quietly, the King and his knights stood up, taking out their swords. Merlin hopped on his feet. Then he remembered he had a sword too, the one Arthur insisted he carried every time they left the castle. The warlock wondered why it seemed so important now when it had never been before but he had obliged. He tended to forget about it, though, because he wasn't really good at handling it. That and the fact that he didn’t need it, of course. He walked a few careful steps to where the blade lay, next to his bag, and took it.

The knights stood around him in a circle, their back to the flames, in a classic on-guard position. After a quick glance behind him, Arthur shifted slightly to be in front of his servant. Merlin squinted over his shoulder but couldn't see a thing outside the ring of light given off by the fire.  He had to admit the weight of the sword felt nice in his hand. At least he still could defend himself if magic was too risky. For a long, wavering moment, his and the knights' breathing were the only sounds he heard. A familiar knot formed in his stomach. Then there was a shout and a group of dirty, ragged men fell on them.

Soon the forest echoed with shouts and the clanging of the blades. The knights seemed outnumbered but it was hard to be sure. Merlin stood carefully out of the way. He was becoming good at it. As he surveyed the fight, his gaze came regularly back to Arthur. The King struggled a bit when two enemies attacked him at once but he was quickly helped by Leon. The smell of blood rose in the air as more and more bandits fell.

The warlock didn’t remain unnoticed much longer. Soon, a small, bulky man ran towards him, raising a battle-axe over his head. He never got close enough to harm Merlin. A yard away from him, he stopped dead on his track, as though he’d hit an invisible wall. The shock sent him bouncing back and he fell, knocking his head on the ground. Once he was sure the man couldn’t hurt him anymore, Merlin turned his eyes back to Arthur. A few corpses lay around him. The bandits were no match for a well-trained knight like him yet the warlock couldn’t help watching. It took so little for things to go wrong. A foot slipping on the mud. A blow forcing you to drop your guard for a heartbeat. Or worrying for your King instead of keeping yourself safe.

Arthur’s eyes widened when he looked at him. “Behind you!”  The shout cut through the noises of the battle. Merlin spun on his heels, just in time to see a massive man raise his sword, his face contorted in a grimace of rage. For a heartbeat, Merlin was paralysed. All he could think was how big the man was, how muscular. How close. The warlock had instinctively held up his sword when he’d turned around but he found himself not knowing what to do with it. His spells eluded him.  He screamed as the edge of the blade dug deep in his chest. Some of his ribs cracked under the blow. He fell back and landed hard on the ground. The man stood over him, raising his sword again to finish him off. Then Merlin heard Arthur shouting his name. The bandit lost his head before he could strike again. His body fell to the ground, a pool of blood forming around his neck. Merlin’s relief was brief, quickly disappearing as the pain radiated in his flesh. Arthur gave him a rapid, worried glance then surveyed the battle. The warlock tried to stand up but only managed to rise a few inches before falling back. His chest was throbbing with every heartbeat. He could feel the blood soaking his tunic. His head started spinning.

Arthur stood by his side until the end of the battle. Then, as soon as their last enemy had run away, he kneeled over his friend, his eyes filled with worry. His face turned pale as he examined the wound. Grasping a blanket lying close, he pressed it on the bleeding flesh. “Leon, how far is the nearest village?”

The knight kneeled beside the King and had a look at the wound.

“We’re at the heart of the forest, Sire. I’d say we’d need half a day to get out of it. Then a half more to reach an inhabited place.”

“That’s as far as Camelot. If we leave now-“

“Sire,” Leon interrupted with a soft but pained voice. “He wouldn’t make it on horseback. And with a stretcher, the journey would take even longer.”

There was a short silence while Arthur took in what his knight’s words meant. “But there has to be a way!” he shouted without turning his eyes away from Merlin.

Leon dropped his gaze as did the other knights.

“No! No!” Arthur kept shouting. “It can’t be!”

“Sire,” Leon tried again, resting a hand on the King’s shoulder. “There’s… There’s nothing we can do.”

Silence filled the place. Realisation hit Merlin as the pain grew in Arthur’s eyes, chasing away all worry or hope, calming his haste. He would die here, in the middle of the forest, from a blow he was too slow to parry. It was funny how he’d always imagined that, had he to die early, it would be by protecting Arthur. It seemed his death was going to be less glorious.

Arthur’s eyes filled with the tears he was unable to hold back as the minutes passed by. Leon silently walked away to join the other knights. The King didn’t seem to notice. Merlin couldn’t stand the anguish in his eyes. “I thought you said no man was worth your tears,” he whispered.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. “I-I was wrong.” His voice broke. Merlin’s heart shattered to pieces.

“I’m sorry.”

The King shook his head, not trusting his voice. Merlin tried to move his arm to touch him but yelped in pain. Arthur’s eyes flung open. They searched his servant face who tried to reassure him. His smile turned into a grimace. Then Arthur’s hand found his and squeezed it.

They remained motionless and silent for a while, hands and gaze locked. They barely noticed the knights walking away to give them some privacy. There was so much Merlin wanted to say. How grateful he was for the time he had shared with Arthur. How much he wanted him to be happy and to take care of himself. What a great King he was. A hundred things spun in his head. Too many for Merlin to choose. There was one thought, however, that stood out from the rest. The only one that really mattered. The one he didn’t dare to say out of fear to see Arthur’s memories of him tarnished.

At last, Arthur broke the silence. “Merlin, I… I wanted to say… you…” His voice broke again.

Merlin couldn’t take it. He couldn’t say goodbye. He couldn’t leave Arthur behind. He had failed his destiny, failed his King. Who would protect him now? Then the warlcok realised the pain must have altered his thinking because, if he was too weak to heal himself, there was still a way to get quickly back to Camelot. He didn’t like the revelation it meant but what did he have to lose?  “I know a way,” he whispered.

Arthur froze. “What? Merlin, you-“

“Do you trust me?”           

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Take me to the nearest clearing.”

Arthur frowned. “Why?”

Merlin was beginning to think it was a really bad idea but he couldn’t turn back. Not now. “Please… You’ll see.”

For a heartbeat, Merlin thought the King was going to give him a witty retort doubting his sanity. Instead he just nodded and turned to the knights. “Did anyone see a clearing earlier?”

There was a short silence while the men shifted awkwardly. They didn’t dare question the King, though. Percival was the first to answer. “I think I remember some place not far away.”

“Good. We’ll follow you.”

The knights lightened torches and Arthur carefully lifted Merlin after telling him to hold the piece of cloth on the wound. He walked as fast as he could without hurting his servant. Merlin was suffering too much to be afraid of what was going to happen. Pain was taking all the place in his mind, capturing every thought. And deep inside, there was this small hope to survive if his plan worked.

“Here we are. What do we do now?” Arthur asked once they reached a small meadow.

“I’m sorry.”

“What-“

Merlin cut him off and called Kilgharrah in a weak voice. He felt Arthur startle.

“Merlin? Sorry for what? What was that? What are we doing here?”

Merlin didn’t answer. Arthur would understand soon enough. The warlock wished he could explain, tell Arthur what he was and why he’d lied but he was too weak. That wasn’t the way he’d imagined revealing his magic to him.

Arthur gasped as Kilgharrah landed a few yards away. For a moment, the warlock thought he was going to drop him. “Merlin… You… You are…” the King muttered. He took a deep breath. His grip on the warlock tightened. “You said I killed it.”

The dragon laughed, a guttural humour-less sound. “You? Kill me? With that butter knife of yours? It’s been a while since I heard something so funny.”

“It… It can speak,” Arthur stammered.

Merlin ignored both of them. “Take us back to Camelot.”

“I’m not a horse, young warlock.”

“He’s dying, you stupid beast!” Gwaine shouted.

Merlin managed a weak smile despite the pain. He could always count on Gwaine. “I’m ordering you, Kilgharrah. Take us back to Camelot.”

“All right, then, Dragonlord,” the beast said, bowing neck. “To Camelot it is. But only for the King and you. The others will have to go on foot.”

“Sire!” Leon shouted. “You can’t do that! That beast killed half of Camelot! What if-“

“Merlin’s dying!” Gwaine cut off.

“And he’s a sorcerer!”

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. Leon sounded ready to kill him. He wondered if Arthur would let him.

“He’s right, Gwaine. Sorcerers are dangerous.”

“Percy! Not you too!”

“The King can’t go alone with a dragon and a warlock!”

“Are you all scared of a dying friend?” Gwaine spat. “I’ll go with him if nobody will.”

“I’m not scared!” Arthur shouted. Yet Merlin could hear he was. His heart broke again.

“Please…”

The warlock could barely hear his own voice. The pain was so strong he knew it wouldn’t be long before he passed out. Arthur looked down at him.  His eyes were wet again, filled with anguish and bewilderment.

“I won’t wait all night,” Kilgarrah said. “If none of you wants to move, I’ll go.”

“No! “ Arthur yelled. “I’ll come.”

“Sire!”

“I can’t… Let him die.”

The warlock didn’t hear the pain in Arthur’s voice. He was too dizzy. All that matter was that he wouldn’t die here, killed by men who had been his friends. Arthur would take him home and protect him.

Kilgharrah crouched low so that they could get on him. Merlin didn’t have any force left and he let Arthur move him around. Soon, they were flying above the forest. The warlock was so dizzy he couldn’t feel the cold wind biting his skin. There was nothing but the pain.

He must have fallen in and out of consciousness because when Kilgharrah dropped them a few yards away from the castle, he remembered only flashes from the journey. The pain was excruciating. The last thing the warlock noticed before passing out was the tears on the King’s lips.

***

Merlin woke up in his bed. His chest and left shoulder were bandaged and the pain had receded a little. There was someone sitting on a chair beside him. It took a moment for Merlin’s eyes to focus and recognise Gaius. The physician smiled when he noticed he was awake. “Merlin! I’m glad to see you’re back with us.”

Something was off, the warlock realised as he slowly came back to full consciousness. Gaius’ smile was forced. His voice shook. “How bad is the wound?” the warlock inquired in a hoarse voice.

“Bad. I did my best but it will need time to heal. However, that’s not my biggest concern at the moment.”

Just when Merlin was going to ask what he meant, the door opened and Arthur stormed in. “Leave us alone, Gaius,“ he said coldly.

“Sire, please, he’s seriously wounded. He needs rest.”

“I said: out. Now.”

Understanding that arguing would bring nothing, Gaius bowed his neck and walked out. Arthur stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed on his chest, staring at his servant. “You summoned a dragon and asked him for a ride.”

Merlin looked away, unable to hold his gaze. There was no point in denying so he remained silent. His chest was still throbbing, each small move causing a deep jolt of pain. And he was so tired, even though he’d just woken up. It wasn’t the time for such a conversation. He was too much in pain to bear the crushing in his chest brought by the anger radiating from Arthur. He wished he could pass out again.

“How?”  Arthur shouted.

"I'm a Dragonlord," Merlin whispered, still staring at the wall.

"That's impossible. The last Dragonlord is dead."      

"He was my father. I…" The warlock throat tightened and was unable to continue. Even though time had passed, it was hard for him to think about Balinor, taken away so soon after they met. "I became a Dragonlord when he passed away."

“He called you a warlock. Is that what you are too?”

Merlin winced at the harshness of Arthur's voice. He'd often imagined that moment, revealing the truth to Arthur, but in his mind it never turned out as bad as he knew this would. Only there was no choice. “Yes,” he answered, bracing himself.

“You betrayed me!”

Arthur’s face was red from anger. For a moment, Merlin feared he would kill him right there with his bare hands. Then he noticed his clenched jaw and the wetness in his eyes. Arthur wasn’t only angry, he was hurt.

“Let me explain,” Merlin tried warily.

“I don’t want to hear another word.”

“Arthur… Please.”

Merlin tried to sit up but pain went flashing in his chest and he let out a yelp. That was when he lost it. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling but it wasn’t enough. He’d always hoped Arthur wasn’t like his father, that he knew Merlin wouldn’t do him any harm, that he would at least listen to him and believe him. He’d hoped his trust was stronger than his fear of magic. But it was too deeply rooted in him, seeded from the very day of his birth. And he was too deeply wounded to listen to him.

“Let me explain you something. Once, just once I thought that magic could be good and that day my father died. Magic killed both my parents and I nearly died because of it more times that I care to remember. You were patient, you gained admittance into the very heart of Camelot and you won my trust just to be right there, at right moment, at the right place, to do whatever you planned to do but I won’t let you.”

“What-“

“Shut up!” Arthur shouted.

His voice broke and his face contorted in a grimace of pain. His cheeks were covered in tears now. Merlin’s heart fell to pieces even before he heard the words through his gritted teeth.  “You’ll sleep in the dungeons tonight and won’t see the sunlight until the day of your execution.”

Arthur walked out, slamming the door behind him.

“Sire,” Merlin heard Gaius shaking voice say. “You do realise that your cells are cold and damp and that Merlin won’t make it through the night if you-“

“Peace, Gaius!”

The front door closed and the warlock curled on the bed, sobbing. He wished he’d died in the woods. He wouldn’t have heard those words from the mouth of the man he’d sworn to protect. The man he would give his life for. The man, as he recently admitted to himself, he wished could be more than a friend, knowing that wasn’t remotely possible. He wished to be dead. The only good thing was: it wouldn’t be long.

Somehow though, it was. He was dozing when voices in the next room woke him up with a jolt. He yelped. The effect of Gaius’ medicines had worn off. The walk to the dungeons promised to be painful. He closed his eyes and braced himself for what was going to come. Yet when his opened his eyes again at the sound of the opening door, it was Gaius who entered the room. The physician closed the door behind him and put a vial on the small table beside the bed before sitting down on a chair.

“It appears my concerns have been heard and you won’t be taken to the dungeons. Instead two men will guard the door until you’re well enough to be put in a cell.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Why would Arthur be concerned for my health if he’s going to execute me?”

Gaius looked away but didn’t answer. The warlock had hoped he would say it was a good sign, that maybe the King wasn’t going to kill him in the end, but as the words didn’t come, Merlin realised there could be another, less cheering solution. “He wants to be sure he _can_ execute me.”

The physician sighed. “Your trial will be held in two weeks, as the King has to go back to that village you were going to visit. Things can change until then.”

Merlin didn’t believe it. Over the years, he'd seen how merciful Arthur could be but this was different. He was wounded, betrayed in the worst possible way. Since his childhood, he'd been conditioned into thinking that sorcerers were his enemies. There was no way he was going to forgive Merlin. And the warlock could tell that Gaius wasn't optimistic either.

"Drink this," the physician finally said, pointing to the vial. "It'll help you sleep. I'll try to reason Arthur once his anger is appeased."

"Don't."

"He needs to know what you've done for him."

"And what will happen to you? You can't tell him you knew."

"Merlin..."

"Please, Gaius. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

"I'd do a lot of things for you but you can’t ask me not to talk to him."

The physician stood up, putting an end to the conversation. "Rest now," he added before heading to the door.

"Gaius?" Merlin called.

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

The physician hesitated for a second, then smiled. "I will."

***

Gwaine asking for an audience with him was something unusual enough to arouse Arthur's curiosity. Besides, it would provide a pleasant distraction after a morning of talks about grain inventory. He welcomed the knight with a cheerful smile.

"Sir Gwaine. What's the matter you wish to discuss with me?"

"I'm here because of tomorrow's trial, Sire."

Arthur's smile vanished. "What about that?"

"I'd like to ask you to be merciful, Sire."

The King clenched his jaw. So long for the pleasant distraction. “I’m going to be very merciful and ignore that comment.”

“Please, Arthur. Merlin is a friend. He would never harm you and you know it. I'm sure if you listened to him, he could prove it to you."

“Did Gaius send you?”

“No, why?”

“He used the same words yesterday. It's funny how everyone seems to think I need their opinion on the subject. However, as I told Gaius, as the King of Camelot I cannot allow myself to be sentimental.”

"This has less to do with sentimentality than rationality and wisdom."

Arthur’s fingers curled into fists. He wasn’t strict when it came to deference. He liked his men to speak their minds and help him put together the best strategy. But Gwaine was going too far. “How dare you?”

Gwaine instinctively took a step back. The King closed his eyes and tried to regain his temper. His voice was softer when he continued. “He’s a sorcerer, Gwaine. I know you like him but you must keep in mind that everything you know about him is a lie."

"And how do you know that? Did you talk to him? Did he confess any evil plan? Has everything he did for you just disappeared because you learned he's a sorcerer?"

"He betrayed me!" Arthur exclaimed, louder than he wanted.

"So you're going to execute him because he lied to you."

"No. I’m going to execute him because he’s a sorcerer and magic is banned in Camelot."

“You’re such a hypocrite! You would have done anything to save him! If a sorcerer had appeared out of nowhere, you would have begged him to heal him.”

That was too much. Arthur stood up and stormed to the knight, stopping a few inches from him.

“You’d do well to remember your place, Gwaine,” he said through his gritted teeth.

“And you, you forget Merlin’s a friend. And a very loyal one.”

Arthur’s nails bit into his palms. He didn't want to hear those words. There had been days when he'd used them to describe Merlin but those days were gone.

"How can you still call him that after he's lied to you for so long?"

"Well, in light of the recent events, I think he had a very good reason to lie to us."

The King's stare turned colder but that didn't stop Gwaine.

"Please, Arthur. You know he's not a threat."

"I'd never imagined Morgana could be one either and yet..."

"But-"

“Enough! The laws exist for a reason. Camelot nearly collapsed because of magic. And I’ve never met one sorcerer who didn’t plot to bring me or my father down. I won’t endanger the Kingdom’s safety because one of my knights thinks that one is an exception. Magic is a threat. And you should be very careful because you seem so eager to defend him that I could consider you as a threat, too."

Gwaine tensed. "That's how it is, then? You're just going to kill everyone who doesn't agree with you? I thought you were better than that."

The knight gave his King a fierce, contemptuous stare and spun on his heels to walk out. As the door closed, Arthur slammed his fist on the table and let out a shout. Gwaine didn’t understand. He couldn’t. He didn’t know the pressure that came along with a crown. The perpetual fear that someone could be plotting against him. The reluctance to trust anyone. The dread of taking the wrong decision and seeing his people suffer because of him. He hadn’t had his confidence shattered by the woman he loved, the one he wanted to make queen in spite of her social rank, who cheated on him. Arthur had thought he had forgotten her at last but the pain had come back with Merlin’s betrayal. It seemed he was helpless at choosing the right people to trust. And yet he wasn’t as confident as he had tried to appear in front of Gwaine.

His experience told him Merlin was a threat. Sorcerers became corrupted by the power that magic gave them and they could only seek more, with no second thoughts about the way they achieved their domination. That was what his father had taught him and he had seen it with his own eyes so many times. When, just once, he’d been a fool enough to hope magic could be good, Uther had died. He had sworn himself he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

But it was _Merlin_! Quite useless as a servant but a man with a gentle soul. He had proved himself to be a loyal friend a countless times. And yet… Yet he had lied. If Merlin was capable of hiding such a secret, then what else could he hide? Arthur wasn’t even sure he knew him anymore. What if becoming his servant and gaining his trust was all part of a plan? A very risky plan that demanded patience and rigour to shatter Arthur and the whole Kingdom. Was that the reason Merlin had come to Camelot? To avenge the sorcerers Uther had killed? Or did he seek power? The thoughts seemed so odd when he projected them on Merlin. Soft, cheerful, caring Merlin.

Arthur sighed and crossed the room to stand by the window. There was hardly a choice. The laws of Camelot were clear: magic was banned and sorcerers must be executed. He couldn’t allow himself to become sentimental. It had been easy for his father. Uther would rather have an innocent beheaded than risking to see Camelot collapse. Executing everyone suspected of sorcery was the safest solution. Arthur wasn’t like him. He valued life too much. He didn’t want to become the King that everyone feared. He wanted to be just. But how could he be if he started doubting the laws?

Through the window, Arthur looked at the courtyard covered in snow and imagined standing down there, overlooking the crowd. He imagined Merlin kneeled in front of him and the executioner’s sword above his neck. He saw his servant’s pleading eyes. He remembered that night in the woods. The pain crushing his chest once he realised Merlin wouldn’t survive. Gwaine was right, he would have done anything to save him back then. The terror of losing Merlin had overcome his fear of magic. Could Arthur really stand there in the courtyard and watch Merlin die? He hadn’t even had the gut to throw him in the dungeons because of his wound. Could he live knowing he had chosen to execute his closest friend? Was that how he would reward Merlin for being willing to sacrifice his life to save Arthur’s? He would never forget that day when Merlin had offered to take his place as a victim for Cailleach. How simple and logical it had seemed for him. The determination he had seen in his eyes. He wasn’t lying that day.

When finally Arthur walked back to his chair and resumed his work, chaos was still raging in his mind. Yet he was certain about two things: he didn’t trust Merlin anymore but no matter how much the betrayal hurt or how he feared what else he servant might hide, he couldn’t execute him.  
 


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin was lying on the floor of the cell he'd been taken to a few days before, much at Gaius' disapproval. The warlock couldn't really complain, though. He'd been allowed to take all the blankets necessary to keep him warm and Gaius could come a few times a day to give him his potions, change his bandages and generally check on him. He doubted any other sorcerers locked up in the dungeons had ever had such comfort. Arthur might have remembered their friendship, at last. But no, Merlin didn’t believe it. The King’s words still echoed in his head, the anger and hate in his eyes still burned a hole in his soul. As Arthur hadn't come to question him after his trip to the plundered village, Merlin hoped he would be given a chance to explain himself during his trial but he knew it was unlikely. Gaius had told him he'd tried to reason the King as much as he could without putting his own life at risk. Gwaine had tried too yet Arthur hadn't listened to any of them. So Merlin waited, lying on the cold, hard floor, to be taken to a mockery of trial and to hear the man he'd done anything for sentence him to death. 

It wouldn't be long now. In the blind cell, Merlin couldn't see the sunlight but the changing of the guard told him morning had come. He was relieved his wait would finally be put to an end, even if it meant he would die soon. It hadn't been so hard at first, with him needing so much sleep, but as he recovered, the long hours spent thinking about everything he'd shared with Arthur, everything he'd done for him and how prompt the King had been to consider him as an enemy were agonizing. 

As time went by, the knot in Merlin's stomach grew tighter. Death had been very present in his life over the last years. Somehow he'd gotten used to it. If he still feared it, it hadn't really mattered when sacrificing himself could save Arthur. Things were different now. Dread had kept him awake all night. Yet he didn't know what was worrying him the most: what he would see in Arthur's eyes when he would deliver his sentence or death itself.

The guards had to help him stand and walk as he was still weak. He was probably a sorry sight, he realised as he entered the throne room, resting most of his weight on the men escorting him. He searched the faces in the small crowd in an attempt to avoid looking at Arthur. He spotted Gaius in the front row. Gwaine was there too, his face turned paler when he saw the warlock. Merlin tried to smile to reassure him but he barely managed a grimace. The sadness in his friends' eyes made his heart clench, tough, so he looked down.

Once in front of the throne, Merlin obediently kneeled, trying not to slump in an undignified way but failed miserably.

"Merlin," Arthur said in a cold voice making the warlock jump. "You stand accused of sorcery. Do you confess?"

"Yes," Merlin whispered still staring at the ground.

"I didn't hear."

"Yes," the warlock repeated louder. "I am a sorcerer."

"Did you use magic within the borders of Camelot?"

"Yes."

"Do you admit concealing your identity in order to become a royal manservant and committing therefore the highest kind of treason?"

Merlin's throat tightened. He couldn't bring himself to concede it, not like that. He couldn't let Arthur believe that his lie was part of a plan to bring Camelot down.

"Let me explain," he pleaded. 

"I need a clear answer."

The warlock closed his eyes to hold back the tears. There was no way to evade the confession.

"Yes."

"You have been convicted guilty of sorcery and high treason. By the laws of Camelot, I… I sentence you to exile."

Merlin gasped and looked up. He was pretty sure the punishment for sorcery was execution; he'd lived in Camelot for too long to ignore that. Arthur had made his decision clear two weeks ago. Why would he have changed his mind? The warlock tried to catch his King's gaze but Arthur was staring at a point behind him. His face was stern, his eyes cold. Yet Merlin knew him too well not to notice something was off. Something in the stiffness of his back or the grip of his hand on the throne's armrest. Could he possibly regret having to read this sentence? Or did he regret being merciful? 

"You have until dawn to leave Camelot," the King continued. "You return upon pain of death."

Chatter filled the room as Arthur called the meeting to an end then decreased gradually as people left. Merlin didn't move as he tried to proceed what had just happened. He watched as the King went out, looking straight in front of him, as if staring at Arthur could answer the questions swirling in his head. He couldn’t believe it. For two weeks he had been certain his life was going to end at the hands of the executioner. He couldn't believe Arthur had spared his life. 

Merlin was brought back to reality when Gwaine kneeled beside him. "Can you stand up?"

"I think I'll need your help."

The knight put his arm around his friends' shoulders, allowing him to rest on him, and stood up carefully. Merlin finally noticed Gaius' presence. He expected to find him relieved, yet he could only see concern in the physician's eyes. It wasn't until they had painfully made their way back to his chambers' and his worry grown wider that Merlin understood.

"I should ask the King to put off your sentence until you recovered," Gaius said while Gwaine helped the warlock sit on his bed. 

"I think we shouldn't push our luck," the knight argued. "We should be grateful that Arthur didn't settle for an execution. What do you think, Merlin?"

The warlock found it difficult to focus. His head was in a blur as he still wasn’t certain he wasn’t dreaming. He tried to grasp what his sentence meant. A life away from Camelot, his friends and everything he knew. A life away from Arthur. 

“Merlin?” Gwaine asked softly, rousing the sorcerer from his thoughts.

"You're right," he answered after a moment. "It would be too much to ask."

"But you're so weak you can barely walk. Where will you go?" Gaius inquired.

Merlin remained silent. He had no idea. Whenever he had thought about his future it had been in Camelot as Arthur's servant. He couldn't imagine living any other way. He couldn't even do anything else. He'd always been useless before coming to Camelot. And so alone. The idea of going back to that loneliness made him sick and he wondered if Arthur had really done him a favour by sparing his life.

"You could go back to Ealdor?" Gwaine suggested.

"Don't be silly, he's too weak for such a long trip."

"I… I'll think later. I should… start packing."

Gaius opened his mouth to argue but sighed instead. "Right. I'll prepare you some potions."

Gwaine offered to help with the packing and ended up doing most of it himself as Merlin's chest hurt too much for such a task. It didn't take long, though. The warlock didn't have many possessions apart from his clothes.

"Have we got everything?" Gwaine asked once the small wardrobe was empty. 

"There's something else."

Merlin sat down on the floor and moved a loose board to reveal his hiding place. He took out the wooden dragon carved by his father, wrapped it carefully in his neckerchief before handing it to Gwaine. But the knight didn't react, too busy staring at the book Merlin had hidden there too. The warlock tensed.

"Is that a spell book?" Gwaine asked.

"Yes."

"Can I see it?"

Merlin gave him the book, shifting uncomfortably as his friend leafed through it.

"You've got a spell to turn people into toads and you never tried it on Arthur?"

"Why, no!" the warlock exclaimed, bewildered. 

"Don't tell me you were never tempted."

Gwaine smiled, eyes sparkling with mischief. Merlin was amazed by his reaction. They'd never spoken about his magic since that night in the woods. Yet the knight seemed to have simply accepted it, assuming immediately he didn't use magic to harm anyone. Merlin was so grateful.

"I might have," he admitted with a smile.

"I knew it!"

Gwaine laughed and went on with his reading. The warlock watched him, fascinated by his curiosity. The book gave him a glimpse of what Merlin could do yet it didn't seem to make him uncomfortable. Hell, Merlin himself was uncomfortable sometimes knowing how powerful he was. How could Gwaine take it so easily?

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Should I?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then why would I? You've always been a good friend. Of course I'm surprised but… That doesn't change who you've been or what you've done since I know you. I know you wouldn't harm any of us, especially not Arthur."

Merlin's throat tightened.

"I wish he could see it too," he said in a hoarse voice, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back the tears.

He didn't want to cry in front of the knight, didn't want to be weak, but it hurt so much. He understood Arthur's suspicion. What he couldn't take, though, was that he hadn't even tried to know more before deciding he was evil. 

The warlock felt Gwaine's arms circling his waist and he cuddled up to him. He couldn't express how grateful he was to have him right now, reminding him that he wasn't alone, that someone still trusted him. Instead he only said: "I'm glad I still have a friend."

"You won't get rid of me that easily."

Merlin giggled. 

"Better?" Gwaine asked.

"Yeah."

"We should get going."

"You're right."

They stood up and joined Gaius who was tidying his working space. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"As much as I can be."

"Do you know where you're going?"

"I remembered a small house in the forest. It's abandoned. I could stay there for a while, until I get better."

"Are you sure you can make it up to there?"

"I'll go with him," Gwaine announced.

Merlin's eyes widened. 

"Are you sure?"

"I told you, you won't get rid of me."

The warlock stared at him. Gwaine had always been a good friend but Merlin had always seen him as the type of person you'd turned to when you wanted to spend a good evening in a tavern, not when you needed someone to support you. It was strange to discover him so loyal and helpful. But it was nice.

"Thank you."

Gwaine dismissed it with a slight shake of the head. 

Merlin turned back to Gaius, bracing himself to say goodbye to the man who had sheltered him and taught him so many things during the last years. His throat tightened again. 

"I've packed some food and blankets for you," Gaius said, handing him a bag.

But as Merlin reached to take it, the physician produced another one.

"And take this. I prepared a small reserve of the medicines you need for your wound. I also left the instructions for some potions you could find useful."

"I can't take your medicine bag."

"You'll need it."

"But –"

"Don't make a fuss about it, it's just a bag."

The warlock surrendered and took the bags but dropped them in his rush to hug the physician.

"Careful! Don't break all the vials."

"Oops. Sorry."

"All this time and you’re still so clumsy."

"Can’t help it… Thank you, Gaius. For everything."

"No, thank you."

"I hope we'll meet again."

"I'm sure we will."

The warlock walked back a few steps. Unable to move further, he stared at Gaius. 

"Go on, you can't stand here all day."

Merlin sighed. He reached for his bags but Gwaine was quicker. He took them all before offering his arm for his friend to rest on. "Ready?" the knight whispered.

"Yeah. Let's go."

The warlock gave a last glance to Gaius and they walked to the door. 

"Is there someone you want to say goodbye to before we leave?" Gwaine asked once they reached the courtyard.

"All my friends must fear me now."

"Don't say that. I'm sure-"

"I prefer to go now. I'm not sure I could take it if… You know."

"As you wish." 

They took a few more steps and Merlin shivered. After the trial, he had been too stunned to notice the cold on his way back to Gaius' chambers. Even in the dungeons he hadn't suffered much from the low temperature thanks to the blanket he'd been allowed. Now the perspective of spending his next nights away from the warmth of his bed wasn’t appealing. Gwaine must have noticed his shudder because he inquired: "Is that the warmest jacket you own?"

"Yes, why?"

The knight eyed the fine piece of clothes and sighed.

"Right. Wait here a minute, will you?"

"Where-" But Gwaine had left before he could finish his sentence.

Merlin looked around and found a low wall free of snow under the archway where he could sit to wait. He took this opportunity to memorise his surroundings. The way the cold winter light fell on the white towers. The outlines of the guards patrolling on the battlements. The busy atmosphere of the crowded yard. A few children playing in the snow. He still couldn’t believe he wouldn’t stand here again. The raids in the kitchen. The feasts and the acrobats who entertained the court. The smell of the stones after the rain. The clatter and the laughs as the knights trained. The soft smile on Arthur’s lips before Merlin woke him up. His throat tightened as he slowly realised everything he wouldn’t experience again. 

After some time, though, he started noticing how things had changed since the night he'd called Kilgharrah. He saw the suspicious stares, the frightened glances. Some people startled when they spotted him and walked away quickly. Gradually his discomfort grew so much that he was grateful when Gwaine finally returned. 

The knight was holding a heavy-looking fur-lined coat which he handed to Merlin. "It's probably too big but at least you'll be warm."

"But that's your coat."

"Indeed, that's why I can give it to you. Would you rather I steal one?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and put the coat on. It was warm, indeed, and he would need it in the woods.

They continued their walk in silence. Soon they crossed the drawbridge, entering the lower town. Their slow progress wasn’t helped by the snow covering the ground but Merlin's chest didn't hurt as much as he had thought. 

The night was falling when they reached their goal: a small cave in the heart of the woods. Merlin walked towards it but Gwaine froze beside him.

"Is that your abandoned house?"

"I couldn't tell Gaius I planned on living in a cave."

"But-"

"Where else do you want me to go? I have no money. I’m not even fit enough to leave the kingdom as I’m supposed to so how would I find work?"

The warlock entered the cave, leaving his friend behind. It was small, barely larger than his room, and cold but at least it was dry. Relieved to finally be able to rest, he sat down, shivering at the feeling of the chill stone ground. The place wasn't homely but it would do. Merlin wasn't one to need much comfort. And there was a stream nearby which meant he wouldn't have to walk far to collect water.

Merlin startled as a blanket was thrown at his face, rousing him from his thoughts. "Take that before your ass freeze," Gwaine said. "I'll go and find some wood for the fire."

The warlock got settled on the blanket and sighed. He’d done his best to keep the gloom away during the journey but now that he was alone it engulfed him again. With a word from his King, he'd lost everything he had apart from his life. He had no house anymore, no mean to earn a living and his only friends left were Gaius and Gwaine. He tried to imagine his future but all he could see was himself sitting alone in this cave, freezing and miserable.

Merlin was grateful to see Gwaine come back as it roused him from his thoughts. He watched the knight light the fire and soon flames illuminated the cave, offering some warmth to the two men. He took some bread and salt meat from one of the bags and they sat by the fire to enjoy their first real meal of the day.

Once they were finished, Gwaine produced some cake and a jar of mead.

"Where does that come from?" Merlin asked, bewildered.

"I raided the kitchens."

"So that's why it took you so long to fetch that coat. I thought it was because your chambers were such a mess."

"You can talk."

Merlin chuckled. It was a short, feeble sound but it felt good after two weeks of tears and sorrow. It was nice to share this moment with a friend after the loneliness of his cell. He would miss it in the weeks to come but for now he didn't want to think about it. They continued their conversation in the same light tone until the jar was empty and only crumbs were left of the cake. Then they lied down on each side of the fire, wrapped in blankets, and they remained silent for a while.

"What are you going to eat once your supplies are gone?" Gwaine finally asked.

"I can hunt."

"You hate hunting."

"I don't have any choice."

"But you don't seem like a good hunter."

"Magic helps, you know."

"Oh… Right, I didn't think about that. It's… still a bit strange."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go on."

"Why did you become a sorcerer?"

Merlin explained he was born with magic and how he’d come to Camelot to get help from Gaius. One question leading to another, they spent most of the night talking about Merlin’s magic. It was nice to have someone to share this part of his life with and Gwaine was a great listener. He seemed sincerely interested in the warlock’s powers, how he’d used it, what he could do, but he never seemed frightened. 

When Merlin finally fell asleep, he wasn't as gloomy as he'd been earlier in the day. He might have lost everything but he still had a friend.

***

Snow was swirling outside. The wind whistled through the windows as Arthur's new manservant brought him his breakfast. The King wasn't looking forward to leaving the castle yet he would soon have to. The number of villages reported plundered by bandits grew steadily. Arthur was worried. Such attacks were normal but they'd never been so frequent. He'd sent all the men he could without jeopardising Camelot's safety. It wasn't enough. They were too many, divided in too many groups that followed no logic in their route. Most of the time, his knights arrived too late. And while Arthur was sitting in his chambers in front of a frugal but sufficient breakfast, his people were slaughtered or left to die of hunger. He couldn't stand it. He would lead an expedition two days later.

The whistling of the wind was the only sound in the room and it made Arthur gloomy. He caught himself wishing for Merlin to stumble in. His babbling would bring some life back to the place. The King slapped himself mentally. Over the three weeks since Merlin’s banishment thinking about him had become a bad habit.

It happened everywhere. He would wake up expecting to find Merlin in place of Paul. He would think of some way to mock a noble after a long and boring hearing and find no one with whom to share it. When he sat on his bed worrying about the bandits, wondering what his father would have done, doubting each of his own choices, he would remember the way Merlin could feel his mood and reassure him with a few words. And then, there were the more troubling thoughts. The ones he barely admitted to himself. They were the nights he woke up covered in sweat, tangled in his sheets, his chest still crushed by the image of Merlin dying in the woods. They were the mornings Merlin’s smile was dancing in his head just before Paul roused him and the way he cursed when the dream was gone. They were the times when Paul helped him get dressed and he would find himself linger for the brushing of Merlin’s fingers against his skin. Arthur shook his head to dismiss the thought. 

He wished he didn’t care so much. He understood his father better now. Growing up, Arthur had never comprehended the coldness and mistrust characterizing Uther. He'd always been careful not to become like him. He’d been a fool. No matter how much he wanted to be a normal person, he wasn't. He was the King and his power attracted all sorts of envious people. He couldn’t allow himself to get attached. It hurt too much when they betrayed him. He’d seen it with Gwen and once again with Merlin. He needed to toughen up or one day the kingdom would fall because of him.

A knock on the door roused Arthur from his thoughts. A servant entered and bowed down politely. 

"Sir Leon has returned and requests an audience with you, Sire. He says the matter is of great urgency."

"Tell him I come at once."

It was only then that Arthur realised he hadn’t touched his food. He forced himself to swallow two sausages and told Paul he could eat the rest.

Leon was already in the council room. The knight's cloak was wet from snow, his hair tangled, and dark rings underlined his eyes. This worn-out appearance only reinforced the grim expression on his face.

"What is it Leon? Have you met some troubles with the bandits?"

"We lost no man, Sire. But our chase led us near the border to Lord Sallan's land. We discovered that he sent emissaries to bring food to our plundered villages."

“That doesn't make sense. We have no alliance with him. Why would he help our people?"

"A rumour is spreading, Sire, and I take it comes from those emissaries. People say you don't care about the misery the bandits bring to your villages. That you gorge yourself while they die of hunger. We weren't welcome in most of the places we visited. The fact that we tended to be too late didn't help."

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. Troubles in the kingdom were really not what he needed right now. How could he take the right decisions when he doubted himself so much? He quickly dismissed the thought. He had to lead his men and protect his people. No one could see his weakness.

“What a nice way of taking advantage of the situation,” he commented. “But what I don’t understand is where Sallan finds this food. We're facing a long and hard winter. We barely have enough food for the city's needs. The situation in Lord Sallan's lands can't be much different.”

"That's what I wondered too so we followed one of those emissaries. They trade with the bandits. They seem to have an agreement and take a part of the stolen food to give it back to the villagers."

"That explains why there are so many attacks. Lord Sallan sent them. And plan on turning my people against me."

"What shall we do? Start a war?"

"Too dangerous. With this cold and our lack of supplies, we'd lose too many men. And there's always the risk that some villagers turn against us."

"It’s true. But, Sire, if we do nothing, we run the risk of a revolt triggered by Lord Sallan."

"I know. We must beat him at his own game. We'll continue tracking the bandits but in addition to neutralising them, our goal will be to take their cargo and give it back to the raided villages."

"I doubt Sallan will stop here," Leon argued. "He must have something else in mind."

"And we'll remain vigilant."

They discussed the details of the organisation of the patrol then Arthur sent Leon to a well-deserved rest. The King spent the rest of the day planning his expedition and what would be needed during his absence. In light of the recent news, leaving Camelot to show his support to the devastated villages was more needed than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

Snow was falling heavily, swirling through the strong wind. Hopefully, the gusts didn't reach the inside of Merlin’s shelter. He wasn't cold, thanks to a fire, Gwaine's coat and a tad of magic. The warmth removed some of the gloomy atmosphere but wasn’t enough to make Merlin forget his home was now a cave.

A dragon was swirling in the flames under Merlin's gaze. After years of busy days taking care of Arthur and running errands for Gaius, his sudden inactivity had been hard to get used to. His spell book had provided a small distraction for some time but without anything or anyone to practice on, its studying rapidly became tedious. Now he didn’t have the willpower to go hunting, even though he had recovered. He wasn’t even hungry anymore. All he was left with were pointless tricks like the galloping horse that had replaced the dragon in the fire.

He had too much time to think. Banished, he felt a loneliness he had never experienced before. Even in the darkest times in Ealdor, when he felt useless and misunderstood, he'd had his mother and Will. There was no one in the forest, not even a lost traveller who could have rested with him for a while. Gwaine's was the only face he'd seen in weeks and his visits, though regular, weren't enough to satisfy the warlock's needs for company. Silence was becoming oppressing. The walls of his cave seemed to be closing in on him.

Yet even more than company, it was having a purpose that Merlin missed the most. In Camelot, he'd felt useful. Who would have thought he’d miss polishing Arthur’s armour? It was more than just having something to do, though. It was the little nod and soft smile the King gave him to show his gratitude. It was seeing the tension in Arthur’s shoulders relax when he found the right words to soothe him. It was being at his friend’s side to protect him. It was the trust Arthur had in him. A cold, strong hand crushed his chest at that thought. He'd better not go there. He was miserable enough.

"She's beautiful."

Merlin startled. He looked up to discover Gwaine watching the fire. A quick glance to the flames taught the warlock that the horse had changed into a view of Camelot without him noticing.

"You miss her," the knight noted as he sat down beside his friend.

"It's difficult not to."

Gwaine didn't answer. Instead, he took a meat pie from his bag that he divided into two parts, one of which he held out to Merlin.

"Gwaine! I told you to stop that! What if you get caught?"

"You have no idea what a smile and a few carefully-chosen words can do to a woman. Don't worry, the cook won't say a thing."

Merlin rolled his eyes but didn't protest any further, knowing it was vain. He forced himself to bite in the pie even though he wasn’t hungry.

As they ate, Gwaine gave the latest news from Camelot, carefully avoiding any mention of Arthur, for which Merlin was nearly as frustrated as he was grateful. Yet he was touched by Gwaine's kindness. Having such a friend in the darkest moment of his life was invaluable.

"Thanks for the food," he said once they were finished.

"It’s the least I can do."

They fell in a companionable silence for a while before the knight asked: "When are you planning on leaving?"

"I-I'm not sure."

"I thought you wanted to go as soon as your wound was healed. What are you waiting for?"

"Tired of me already?"

Gwaine sighed. "Of course not. But I'm worried about you. If it's food you need, or anything, I can help."

"I know. Thanks"

"Merlin, what is it? I know you hate being here. I can see you getting more and more miserable every time I come. What's keeping you here?"

The warlock looked down at his hands neatly folded in his lap. Gwaine wouldn't understand but he deserved the truth.

"Arthur."

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin noticed the knight's bulging eyes.

"But he banished you!"

"At least I'm still alive."

"Don't tell me you're grateful for that."

"I am."

"But –"

"He should have killed me, according to the law."

"He didn't even listen to you! You were his friend. You saved him countless times and your only reward is exile!"

"I know!" Merlin roared, raising his voice for the first time. "And it hurts! It hurts to know he's too prejudiced and cares too little to let me explain why I lied and what I've done for him. "

The warlock closed his eyes and sighed. He took a moment to regain his temper before adding: "Don't think I've forgiven him."

"Then why don't you forget him and leave?"

"I can't abandon him. It's hard enough being here. I can't just leave the kingdom."

"Merlin…"

"What happened doesn't matter. He's the Once and Future King, destined to be the greatest King Albion will ever know. My duty is to protect him. And one day… I hope he'll realise he was wrong about me."

Gwaine remained silent, staring at the fire that had regained his normal aspect. The passion that had animated his being a few moments before had left him, replaced by an emptiness Merlin had never seen in him. It made the warlock slightly uncomfortable.

"Anyway, I must accompany the King on an expedition tomorrow," Gwaine finally said. Merlin frowned at the abrupt change of subject but let him go on. "I'm not entirely sure when we'll come back. So you won't see me for a while. Speaking of which…"

He trailed off as he rummaged in his bag and produced a small package. "I got you some cheese and oat for when I'm away."

"Gwaine! You-"

"Shouldn't have. I know. Do you take it or do I have to keep it for myself?"

"That would be so hard for you."

The knight laughed. Then he put the bag in his friend's hands. "Please. Take it."

Merlin nodded knowing that protesting wouldn't make any difference. "What sort of expedition is that?" he enquired after thanking Gwaine.

"The King wants to show his concern about the increase of bandits in the realm. We'll chase some of them down."

The warlock didn't like the sound of it. Routine stuff, it might seem, but things could so easily go wrong. A plan was slowly forming in his head. Gwaine was right; he couldn’t stay here and dwell on his thoughts. His sorrow and his worry for Arthur would swallow him.

"When do you leave?" he asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Tomorrow at dawn."

"And where will you be heading?"

"West. A group was seen there yesterday. The King wants to follow their track. Why?"

Merlin dropped his gaze. "Oh, nothing. I'm just curious."

But Gwaine was not so easily convinced. He stared at his friend who shifted awkwardly.

"Don't tell me you're planning on following us."

"Why, me? I don't see why I'd want to do that. And it's awfully cold, right? I'm much better here. Really, I – "Merlin stopped babbling when he notice Gwaine's cold gaze."Right," he admitted. "The idea did cross my mind."

"You'll be killed if someone sees you."

"They'll have to catch me first."

"Then they'll think you're planning something and they'll hunt you down."

Merlin waved it off with a shrug. Gwaine sighed.

"Think about it. Do you really want to risk your life for someone who banished you?"

"Told you. Destiny and all."

"Merlin…"

“You don’t understand. Being here when I know something could happen to him, it’s… It’s unbearable. He hurt me and he… He probably hates me but I just can’t… I can’t abandon him. I need to make sure he’s alright. Because if… If he dies and I haven’t done everything I can to save him then I… I couldn’t forgive myself.”

The warlock sniffed and wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

“So you’re going to hide in the wood and watch over him, even though he thinks you’re a monster.”

Gwaine’s tone was soft and his words weren’t meant as an insult but they cut deep into Merlin’s heart. He couldn’t find the voice to answer so he just nodded slowly. The knight put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. It was nice to finally have someone to hug him as he broke down. But Merlin had cried too much since his trial. He was tired of it. He needed to move on. So he sat up, breaking the hug, and dried his tears.

The silence stretched for a while. Gwaine’s gaze was lost in the fire again, the sadness back in his eyes. It was so unusual, Merlin felt uncomfortable again. He wanted to help him but wasn’t sure what to say. The knight wouldn’t open up easily so he had to try and guess what was wrong. He'd noticed the way Gwaine had carefully avoided Arthur's name, his anger when he talked about the King. He wondered if obeying and fighting for someone he’d lost all respect for could be part of the problem.

"You-You don't seem very fond of Arthur," the warlock finally tried.

"I used to like him. He disappointed me." 

"You mean because he banished me?"

"Yeah… I thought he wasn’t like his father. I was wrong.”

“You know he’s better than Uther. On many levels. He’s just and-“

“You think what he’s done to you is just?” Gwaine snapped.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

The knight sighed and his tone softened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright. But we’ve talked enough about me. Arthur’s disappointed you. I… I can understand but why are you still in Camelot fighting for him?”

“Well, with all these bandits the knights need men, don’t they?”

Gwaine’s bright smile gave him away. Merlin had never realised how much of a façade it was before that moment, when he saw it contrast so much with the sadness in the knights eyes.

“Is that why you’re so unhappy? Because you don’t want to fight for him but you don’t want to let the knights down?”

“I’m happy. What are you saying?”

“Gwaine, please… You listened to me, I can listen to you.”

The knight looked down and rubbed his neck. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Merlin…”

“Please.”

Gwaine closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped slightly. “I-I wanted to stay to take care of you. And then… I thought, when you'd recover I… I'd leave with you.”

“Oh…” The warlock’s heart clenched. “I'm sorry. I didn't think... I-"

"It's alright.”

“But-“

“Merlin, I was a fool. It’s so obvious, I should have seen.”

“Seen what?”

“You love him.”

Merlin froze. How could Gwaine notice what himself had only just accepted? His last secret. It felt odd to hear these words. For a moment, he feared the knight thought there was something wrong with him. Then he realised that his friend had hoped more than simply leaving with him.

“Oh Gwaine, I-“

“Don’t. It's alright. You can't command these things."

His voice didn’t shake but his eyes were dull as he stared at the fire. Merlin had never seen him so vulnerable. He felt guilty, wondering if he'd ever done something that gave him hope. Or why he hadn't understood sooner. But how could he have imagined that someone like the knight could fall for him?

"Don't look at me like that," Gwaine said. "I'll survive."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"But after everything you've done…"

The knight sighed. He came to sit closer to Merlin and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What I've done, I've done it for you. I don't seek any reward."

Merlin dropped his gaze. It felt strange to know he was the cause of a friend's pain, even unwillingly. And there was nothing he could do to make it better.

"Can we… Can we still be friends?"

"Of course."

They fell into a slightly awkward silence that made Merlin worry something had been lost between them, despite Gwaine's goodwill.

"So what are you going to do, then?" the warlock asked after a while.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll leave soon, I guess. Or when spring comes."

"Does that mean I won't see you again?"

"Nah, I'll come and say hello once in a while."

Merlin smiled softly. Gwaine smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes. It wasn’t long before the knight stood up. "I've got to go."

Merlin watched him pick up his bag and whispered: "Thank you. For everything."

Gwaine smiled his sad smile and walked away. "You know," he said as he stopped outside the cave without looking at his friend. "He might have disappointed me but… I really hope one day he'll find out what a wonderful person you are."

And with that, Gwaine left.

***

The cold air bit at Arthur's exposed skin on his face. It pierced through his layers of clothes, chilling him to the bone. For the thousandth time of the day, he cursed winter. Behind him, his knights were grim too. They'd been following the track for a day now. The men were getting impatient. They'd all been on other missions to hunt the bandits recently. They were tired of the cold, frustrated by the chase of an invisible enemy. Even though he didn’t doubt their loyalty, Arthur had better find those bandits soon. That was another reason why he hated winter so much: men grew more difficult to handle.

Then he heard a noise ahead. A single wave of his hand was all his morose group needed to turn into a group of soldiers on the look-out. Slowly and without a sound, they came closer to their enemies to assess the situation.

A group of men were eating and talking loudly around a campfire while four sentinels guarded the place. From their plain clothes, the abundance of weapons they carried and the heap of bags behind them, it was clear they were the bandits Arthur was looking for. After a rough count, he concluded that their enemies outnumbered his men slightly yet not enough to cause serious problems. He launched the attack with a few further signs of the hand.

It had been a while since the King's last proper training as the cold had prevented any outdoor drill. He felt slightly rusty when his blade collided with another for the first time. Then the motions engraved in his muscles by years of practice came back easily. In a few blows, he got an opening and his sword slid into it. The man fell on his knees. Instinctively, Arthur looked at the fight around him. There was no time to worry for his knights; a quick glance was all he needed to make sure they weren’t in real trouble. No, he was concerned by someone else. Then he realised Merlin wasn’t there and Paul hadn’t come along because Arthur feared he would be a burden. For a heartbeat, a wave of emptiness threatened to swallow him. He kept it at bay. He needed to stay focused.

The number of their enemies decreased slowly but steadily. Arthur, who had gotten rid of a man with beak-nose and a beard covering half of his chest, was now struggling with small but muscular thief. Suddenly, a loud crack just behind the King made the bandit jump. It was all Arthur needed to dig his sword in his gut. The man fell back when he took it out. The King spun quickly on his heels to where the sound had come from. A thief was sprawled on the ground, knocked out by the heavy branch that had presumably landed on his head. Judging by his proximity and the way he faced Arthur, he'd been just about to kill the King when he'd fallen. Arthur thanked his luck. Looking up, he eyed Percival painfully repelling two opponents at once a few yards away. He ran to him.

Together, they overcame the two bandits quickly before fighting back to back. Then there was another crack. Arthur risked a quick glance in the direction of the noise. Gwaine was looking frantically around. A bandit lay at his feet, collapsed under a branch. It struck Arthur as odd but he quickly put the thought at the back of his mind to concentrate on the fight. After all, he'd already had such luck before.

In the end, Arthur and his men were victorious with only a few minor wounds to report. As the few bandits who had fled hadn't had time to collect their goods, the knights picked them up and decided on a trip to the nearby village where it had probably been stolen.

The forest echoed with laughter that night around the knights’ camp. Some of the men were reliving the fight, exaggerating some details, cutting off some others and generally boasting about their success. The rest of the pack spoke animatedly and somewhat crudely about the women they met in the village. All of them were enjoying the much awaited warmth radiating from the fire. Arthur listened but didn't take part in the banter. If he valued his closeness to his men, he didn't felt it was his place as the King to share such stories. Instead he surveyed the camp and his eyes were caught by a figure sitting a few feet away from the group.

Arthur didn’t need to watch closely to know it was Gwaine. The knight had been cold and distant since Merlin’s trial. First it had been only with Arthur. He had this harsh, reproachful stare whenever they met. Gone were the smiles and the light-hearted jokes. In the meetings, he would stand as far as possible from his King and not utter a word. Then his attitude with the other knights had changed too. Arthur had chosen him for this expedition to give him a last chance but he knew there wasn’t much hope. He should have banished him when he’d noticed Gwaine regular trips to the forest. Knowing that Merlin couldn't have gone far in his state health, the purpose of the knight’s getaways wasn’t a mystery. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even though he would never admit it, he didn’t have the heart to punish what was presumably the only friend Merlin had left. He was becoming dangerously soft but he just couldn’t. Instead he kept an eye on him, making sure he wasn’t trying to spread his feelings to the other knights, looking for any sign that he was plotting against him with Merlin. Yet if he couldn’t banish him, he would have to dismiss him. He needed his men to trust him. He needed to be sure he could count on them. Too many lives were at stake. It saddened him to lose Gwaine. He was a good knight and a better man. But Arthur didn’t have a choice. If Gwaine couldn't accept his decision to banish Merlin, he would have to go.

***

The knights' second encounter with bandits occurred two days later. As the first time, they closed in on their enemies while they were resting. The settings were less favourable to the knights, though. The thieves had set camp in a ravine, a place they could defend more easily in the eventuality of an attack. Arthur hesitated. The probability of severe wounds and losses among his men was much higher than it had been the last time. On the other hand, the bandits were outnumbered and some of them seemed heavily drunk. After their recent and easy victory, his men were hungry for battle. And neutralising the bandits was the whole point of their expedition.

The scout Arthur had sent around the camp came back reporting he’d found a way to go down in the ravine on the other side. The King sent half of his men with him to attack the bandits on two fronts and cut their retreat. Once he judged they had enough time to get in position, he launched the assault.

Soon it was clear that knights had the upper-hand. A few thieves were too drunk to even hold a sword. The others were overcome easily. Just when Arthur was beginning to relax, the young knight running past him to get to his next opponent fell to the ground. The King thought he had stumbled on a root but then he saw the bolt in his neck. His stomach sunk. He hadn't seen any crossbows before the attack. Where did that shot come from? He looked around frantically for any sign of a bowman and froze when he noticed the bolt flying right to him, coming from above. For half a heartbeat, he thought his time had come. Then something incredible happened: the bolt abruptly deviated from its way. It avoided him and hit a thief right in the chest. Arthur was so bewildered that he almost dropped his sword.

Sorcery! He didn’t see any other explanation. There was no wind. The bolt had been aiming straight at him. But why would a sorcerer be there if he wasn't helping the bandits? Another bolt whistling right next to him roused him from his thought. Then he heard a loud crack, again. Above him, on the top of the slope, a branch gave way under a bowman and he fell unconscious on the ground. Questions ran though Arthur’s mind but again he had to put them away to focus on the fight. This time, however, he was resolute to reflect on the events later.

Recovering from his bewilderment, he shouted a warning against the bowmen. Immediately, a few knights left the battle to take care of the shooters. They found two others in the trees. Once they were down the battle was won easily and Elric, the young knight killed by the bowman, was their only loss.

There was laughter again around the campfire that night although a bit softer than after their last victory. They had given Elric a burial and grieved for him. But death was part of a knight’s life. They never got used to it but, after some time, they accepted it. Before each battle they knew they ran the risk of never coming home or never see a friend again. But those who died fighting did so with honour. Arthur was the most affected by Elric’s death as he was every time he lost a man. He knew the knights had chosen to risk their lives to protect the kingdom but he couldn’t help thinking he led them to their death and failed them somehow. And Elric was so young…

Thinking about him brought Arthur back to the fight and the mystery of that bolt. He replayed the scene again and again in his mind, the deadly projectile aiming to him and changing direction in mid-air. In the absence of wind, the bolt couldn't have deviated in such a manner without any unnatural forces. What he didn't understand was why a sorcerer would help him. Was it a way to get closer to the King and ask favours in return? But then why choose Arthur, in whose kingdom magic was banned?

As he still hadn't found any answer when the knights went to sleep, he took the first watch. He remembered their previous battle two days before and the way the branches had collapsed and saved Gwaine and him. It hardly seemed a coincidence now. So that meant a sorcerer was following them. Arthur didn’t like that one bit. The man might not have shown any threatening behaviour but who knew what a sorcerer was capable of? What was that twisted mind of his plotting against them? This help was simply too suspicious. In all his life, Arthur had never met a self-less sorcerer. He needed to bring that man down before he asked for an intolerable contribution in return of his assistance if not worse.

A rumpling sound made Arthur jump and interrupted his thinking. A hand on his sword, he surveyed the camp. It was only Gwaine walking away to make his water. The King relaxed. His thoughts went back to the sorcerer. What were the chances of catching him if he sent someone looking around the camp? Poor, he guessed. He had to be smarter than him, find a way to trap him. He could pretend to leave an injured knight behind and see if the man was still keen to help. But what if the sorcerer was only waiting to be alone with a knight to cast a spell on him? And even if he hid men around, the man was so skilled at using branches to knock people out. How were they supposed to catch him in the middle of a forest?

He hadn't come much closer to a plan when he realised Gwaine was taking way too long. For a moment, Arthur contemplated waking Percival to go after him. Then it struck him. On their first fight, one of the branches had saved Gwaine. Gwaine was the only person that had kept contact with Merlin. Gwaine had sneaked out of the camp. Could it mean…? No, he couldn’t believe it. Why would Merlin do that? Why would he help him now that he was banished? Why would he save him if all these years he’d been lying and plotting against him? Or was he wrong about that?

The thought he’d had when Gwaine had been saved by the branch in their first fight came back in his mind. He’d been very lucky before. Could it mean that Merlin had being doing that regularly? Using his magic to save him? No. No, it wasn’t possible. Sorcerers were evil. Merlin had lied too long for his motives to be honest. Arthur needed to stop being so soft. He only came up with these explanations because they hurt less than the truth. He couldn’t allow himself to get so sentimental. Sorcerers were dangerous and one of them was following him. He needed to be on his guard.

Gwaine returned just before the change of watch but Arthur pretended not to notice. He woke Percival and instructed him to be even more vigilant than usual and to wake him at the slightest suspicious event. Then he went to sleep.

The temperatures had further dropped that night. As the King rummaged through his bag to find an extra-blanket, he realised that his new servant being polite, obedient, organised and generally speaking the opposite of Merlin, also had its downsides. He wasn’t used to sleeping outside. He had packed warm cloth for the King but the extra-blanket Arthur needed was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, he lay down and covered himself with what he had. It had been acceptable, if not comfortable, until that night but Arthur was now shivering. Between that and his rummaging thoughts about Merlin, sleep eluded him.

He must have fallen asleep in the end, for he woke up to the sound of the knights shifting around him. Pleasantly warm, he allowed himself to lie a little longer. In the sweet haze of drowsiness, his mind wandered back to Camelot, to his warm chambers and soft bed. Slowly, though, the nagging feeling that something was off crawled into his mind. Searching for its origin finished to wake him up. He needed Elyan cursing the cold to understand. Arthur had been freezing too that night. He sat up, his mind in a haze. Why was he so warm now? Then he realised he had one more blanket than when he’d gone to sleep.

He needed a few moments to recognise it but when he did, his heart missed a beat. It was Merlin’s. The one he'd seen a countless times when his servant had bravely followed him anywhere without a thought about the danger. The sorcerer Arthur was so afraid of had given him his blanket because he was cold. A wave of melancholy hit the King and his squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tears. And he’d thought he’d never met a self-less sorcerer. That was so Merlin. How many times had Arthur woken up to find Merlin's jacket on him to keep him warm while his servant's teeth were clattering? What would he have discovered if he had accepted to listen to him? Or did he know the King so well he was he playing with him again? If that was all part of a plan to shatter him, Arthur feared it was a very efficient one.


	4. Chapter 4

After three more days of riding through the woods, without finding any fresh tracks, the knights headed back to Camelot. The men had become grim again with their unsuccessful search and Arthur didn't like being away from the castle much longer when he knew Lord Sallan was plotting against him. As he'd searched the forest, he'd realised how the bandits were a perfect way to lure him and the knights away from Camelot, leaving the city weak and easier to take. Arthur had bought it like a green boy.

The knot that had settled in his stomach since dawn hadn’t vanished at the distant sight of Camelot when they left the woods despite the apparent normality. His foreboding was proven true when they came closer. There were deep gashes on the curtain-wall. Arthur didn’t have a clue what weapon or creature could have left such huge marks in the stone but it certainly didn’t bode well. He sped up his pace.

He was met by cold, hard stares and whispers in the lower towns. The knot in his stomach grew tighter. When he reached the courtyard, his heart sank. The snow there was splattered in crimson red. Blood, so much blood. And stones, for a whole aisle had been torn apart, its insides opened to the cold weather and wind. A shiver ran down Arthur's spine.

As soon as the King stopped in the main yard, Leon came running down the stairs. Arthur dismounted and gave his reins to a stable boy. Without a word of greeting, he asked:

"What happened?"

"A beast. A giant dog with two heads and an enormous snake in place of a tail. It attacked us two nights ago, crawled up the curtain-wall. We fought it but it seems nothing can harm it. It came back last night and destroyed the east aisle. I sent words for you."

"They haven't reached me."

Arthur walked up the stairs and Leon went after him.

"What are the losses?" the King enquired.

"The count isn’t made yet but it could be near a hundred dead, Sire, and twice as many severe injuries. Mostly men who tried to fight the monster. We gathered as many people as possible in the castle but even so, there's not enough space for all of them. And the east aisle proves that nowhere is really safe."

They reached the great hall transformed into an infirmary. Arthur felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as he surveyed the room. Some of the people lying there had lost a limb, some two. Some had their whole chest bandaged, the white fabric showing two or three big red lines where presumably giant claws had scratched them. And then, there were bodies so crushed Arthur wondered how they could live and guessed it would have been better for them if they didn't. As Leon had said, there were mostly men in the room but Arthur saw a dozen of women and a few children. He felt sick.

"As you see, Sire, Gaius has much to do. And with… Well, with Merlin gone he has no skilled help. Some people volunteered but it isn't enough. And if the beast returns tonight…"

Arthur nodded. He spotted the physician on the right side of the room, tying bandages around the remaining of a young man's arm. The King was convinced of Gaius' skills and hard work but even so he knew a great part of the people in front of him, if not most of them, wouldn't survive. And where was he while his people were being slaughtered? Chasing ghosts in the forest.

"We must find a way to kill this monster," he said.

"I had a few men help Gaius do some research. He'll talk to you as soon as he can."

Arthur put a hand on his knight's shoulder.

"You've handled the situation well, Leon."

"I've done my best, Sire," he answered with a small nod. "I wish I could do more. Now, if I may, there's a matter that needs to be discussed privately."

On the way to the King’s chambers, Leon gave a brief report on which patrol had come back from the woods, who was still out there, and who had fallen. Once they reached their goal, they sat at the King's dining table.

"What more?" Arthur inquired, the knot still tight in his stomach.

"People are whispering. They think you fled to save your own skin or that you heard of the beast and refused to come back, abandoning your people."

Arthur was reminded of the hostility he met in the lower town. "Well, certainly my presence here will prove them wrong."

"There's more to it, Sire. I don't think the idea came from within Camelot."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. A gut feeling. It seems too quick. And we know Lord Sallan uses a similar strategy to discredit you in the villages."

Arthur frowned. How would Sallan have had word of the events in Camelot and organised his strategy so quickly? Except if…

"Do you think he sent that beast?"

"Yes, Sire."

"But we thought he wanted to take over the kingdom. What's the point of destroying it before?"

"He could come and take the beast away before it does too much damage."

Arthur sighed. "I hope you're mistaken. Anyway, we must kill this monster as quickly as possible. Do you know –"

The King was interrupted by three soft knocks on the door. Gaius entered carrying a heavy-looking volume. He bowed slightly and sat on the chair Arthur designated.

"Gaius. I hope you bear better news than what I heard until now."

"I'm afraid not, Sire."

"You haven’t found what that monster is?”

“I have. I believe it is the only specimen of its kind though it’s reported to live far away from Albion. Its name is Orthus.”

“Do you know how to defeat it then?”

"I do but I fear it won't be easy."

"What is it?"

"As we experienced, Orthus is immune to any normal wound. However, the writings say that there is a way to injure it by coating the blade in a mixture of certain plants."

"Can we find them?"

"That's where the difficulty lies. Some of them are common healing herbs of which I have a supply. All of them but one: the Firepoppy. I fear, though, that it is rare and even more difficult to find in this season."

"But you know where it grows, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, Sire. There's only one place in the kingdom."

Arthur took a map out of a chest of drawers and laid it down on the table. "Show me."

Gaius pointed to a spot in the forest of Balor.

"Here. You'll find a group of ancient trees. The Firepoppy grows on their roots."

"And how will I recognise it?"

The physician flipped through the book he'd brought with him and presented a drawing to the King. It showed a flower similar to a common poppy except for the orange colour at the base of its petal, gradually turning red towards the tips. The chiselled leaves showed no difference from the common plant.

"It is easily recognised to its petal, however you won't find any flower in this season. You must be careful for its leaves are easily mistaken with more common herbs. The one you're looking for grows directly on tree roots and the back of its leaves have a slight orange tint."

Arthur nodded his understanding and looked back at the map.

"That's a whole day away from here. We'll ride at once. I want to be back as soon as possible."

"Sire," Leon objected. "If you leave now, people will see a confirmation of the rumours."

"But I can't stay here and watch them die."

"You can send someone else."

"With all the respect and trust I have for my knights, Leon, this is not a mission I wish to delegate. I'll prove the rumours wrong by slaying the monster."

***

"We've already been here," Arthur said barely holding back a shout.

Some of the men behind him growled. They had spent half the day before going round in circles and were well into their second one of doing so. The quick ride to the area Gaius had indicated had left them exhausted and the cold wind that had been blowing since their departure didn’t help. The worst part was the frustration, though. Each night they spent away from Camelot, more people died. They might be their friends, their families. They were the people they’d sworn to protect. They needed to find the plant quickly. Arthur didn’t know which way to choose as it seemed they had explored every possibility. He led the group south-east without conviction.

In this tense atmosphere, Arthur doubted his choice of bringing Gwaine with him instead of dismissing him as he’d wanted to. If Gwaine chose to express his mistrust now, the situation could rapidly become difficult to handle. It had been the knight’s request to come along and the first time Arthur had heard his voice since the trial. When he’d realised it might have to do with Merlin following him, he hadn’t been able to refuse. If Merlin was keeping him safe, allowing a friend to come along was the least he could do to thank him. That was when Arthur had understood he was doomed. He cared too much. The betrayal still hurt like the day he'd discovered it, a sharp, white-hot blade into his heart yet he still cared. Everything he knew about sorcery told him he should have sentenced Merlin to death yet he hadn’t had the guts to do so. He hadn’t even been able to throw him in the dungeons while he was so weak. No matter what happened, he just didn’t have it in him to hurt Merlin. He wasn’t comfortable with the sorcerer following him, though, but for now it couldn’t be helped.

Arthur’s horse suddenly refused to go further, rousing the King from his thoughts. The animal stamped and whinnied. His fear soon spread to the other mounts without any rider managing to calm them. There was a hiss then the horses went wild. Five snakes reared up on the road, their hissing getting louder as they came closer, their forked tongues waving in the air. Arthur’s horse bolted. The King managed to remain in the saddle for a while but there was no controlling his mount. Then the animal made an abrupt change of direction and Arthur lost balance. His head hit the ground violently and he lost consciousness.

The King woke up shivering on the cold, hard ground. His head was throbbing, his whole body sore from the fall. He sat up carefully with a wince of pain. Slightly dizzy, he analysed his situation. The horse was gone and with it, his sword and food. No one was to be seen. He didn’t recognise his surroundings but he could follow his tracks back to the place where the snakes had been and from there, find his knights. As he didn’t want to stand up too quickly, he kneeled. That was when he saw the wolf coming towards him.

He wasn’t like any wolf Arthur had seen before. His fur was long and thick, pristine white. He stopped a few yards away and stared at the King with soft, blue eyes as he came closer. Arthur tensed. He put a hand on the hilt of the dirk at his belt without looking away. He stood up, careful to avoid any brutal move. He hoped his knights had followed his tracks and would soon appear but he heard nothing. There was only him. Him and the wolf, both standing still in the silent forest.

After a few moments, the wolf continued his way slowly and, it seemed to Arthur, warily. He was slightly crouched, his tail and ears down. He didn’t show any threatening behaviour. The King unsheathed his dirk anyway. It wouldn’t be easy alone against a wolf but if he was quick he might get the upper hand without too much damage.

The beast was at an arm length now. Arthur still hadn’t moved. He couldn’t allow the animal to come much closer or it would be too late. Yet something in the eyes held him back. Their shade of blue felt familiar. Their soft, almost tender expression had a soothing effect on him. The wolf stopped inches away. He raised his head and his muzzle reached for Arthur’s free hand. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his dirk. Then the beast licked his hand. The King relaxed slightly.

When the leather of his glove was covered with saliva, the wolf looked up at him. Arthur was mesmerised by his eyes and the brightness of his fur. He was tempted to run his hand through his fluffy hair but held back. The animal might seem friendly yet he assumed he’d better not push him. Then the beast walked way.

He stopped after a few yards and looked back at Arthur then in front of him then again at Arthur. He sat still, waiting, the King assumed, for him to follow. He hesitated. The whole thing felt too much like a trap. The snakes had clearly been put on his way by some enemy. They didn’t normally move in such a large number nor did they attack a mounted group so large. And now a wolf behaving nothing like one wanted him to follow. Sorcery was the only explanation and he didn’t like it one bit. Especially as it seemed logical for Lord Sallan to try and prevent him for reaching the only place where the Firepoppy grew. The bright side was that it could only be near. The dark one that the fluffy ball of fur could quickly turn into a wild beast if Arthur did something wrong.

In the end, it wasn’t half as bad as what he’d feared. Still not decided to behave like a wolf, the animal rolled his eyes. Then he came back to Arthur, bit in his cloak and attempted to drag him forward.

“Alright,” Arthur said, feeling slightly stupid for talking to an animal. “I’ll come, no need to ruin my cloak.”

The beast must have understood because he let go of the fabric. He padded away and glanced back to make sure Arthur was following. After a while, the King sheathed his dirk and relaxed slightly. Whoever had sent the wolf to summon him seemed a long walk away and he saw no reason to be afraid of the wolf. The beast was trotting merrily in front of him, doubling back from time to time when he was too far ahead. It reminded Arthur of the few moments of innocence in his childhood when he walked with his dogs in the woods. These were happy memories yet the King couldn’t shake off the aching in his chest. Something was off, missing. Then he realised he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone in the woods. Even when he didn’t bring his knights, he used to bring his servant. The forest was too silent without Merlin’s cheerful babble. He’d called him a friend but he’d never truly realised how big a place his servant had taken in his life before. He’d grown accustomed to his presence and their teasing. Now his loneliness had a bitter taste.

Light faded quickly. Arthur had been out longer than he’d thought. He hesitated for a moment and finally stopped. The wolf continued for a while. Then, realising that Arthur wasn’t following him, walked back. He sat at his feet and cocked his head to the side, looking up at the man.

“Your eyes are better than mine. It’s almost dark. I don’t want to trip and break my neck.”

Again, the wolf seemed to understand because he lied down, his legs sprawled on the ground. “I’ll collect wood for the fire,” Arthur added and walked away.

The animal was nowhere to be seen when the King came back. He set to light the fire. Only when the flames were roaring did the wolf come back, carrying a rabbit in his mouth. He let the prey fall down in front of Arthur. “For me?” he asked dumbfounded. He hadn’t thought he would eat that night.

The wolf nuzzled the rabbit closer to him. “Thank you,” Arthur said before taking out his dirk to skin the prey.

While the meat cooked, he wondered if he should share with the beast. Judging by the blood on its muzzle, though, he had probably eaten his own prey before coming back. Arthur ended up throwing bits of meat anyway. The wolf leapt, open-mouthed, to catch them, his tail wagging happily. The distraction was a welcomed one for Arthur whose grim mood hadn’t left. But the game ended when the rabbit’s bones were naked. Too soon.

Arthur wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet. His thoughts went back to Camelot and the people who had died while he’d played with the wolf. He wished Merlin was there. He always found a way to cheer him up. He remembered that night when he’d done anything to save him. In the end, he’d lost him all the same. He fought hard to hold back the tears. Then he gave up. Who was there to see anyway?

What did he have left now that the two people who mattered the most had betrayed him? Having people he could trust, people who dared speak their mind to him and didn’t serve their personal interest had been so valuable. Having friends. Now he was stuck with the nobles and their flattery. Alone, crushed under the pressure of his crown. And he missed the friends he had been the one to banish. They’d hurt him, they’d betrayed him and yet he couldn’t forget what they’d shared. He wished they could be there. Gwen didn’t love him anymore and he didn’t love her either, he’d realised, but she would have encouraged him. She would have stayed in Camelot and helped the wounded, given them hope, fought the rumours. And Merlin… Merlin would have been by his side, where he’d always been. When had Arthur become so dependent on his manservant that he felt so lost without him? When had their friendship become so strong that he was longing for Merlin’s smile? For the faith and trust that never left his eyes, even when Arthur doubted himself. And it had all been a lie. Or had it? Arthur wished he had listened to the sorcerer before banishing him. It was too late now. He might never see Merlin again.

Arthur startled when he felt something warm and wet on his hand. The wolf was licking it again, looking at him with sad eyes. The oddity of an enemy’s envoy comforting him struck Arthur but he didn’t linger on the thought. Instead he accepted the soothing gladly. He finally dared to run his fingers through the snowy fur. It was soft and pleasantly warm against his skin.

The regular motion of his hand on the wolf’s neck helped Arthur calm down. When his tears ran dry, he hid his face in the fur, inhaling deep breaths of its musky scent. “It seems you’re my only friend now,” he whispered. “And I don’t even know who’s sent you or where you’re taking me.”

Arthur cringed at his own words. He was definitely becoming soft. He sat up. “Time to sleep.”

He lay down then realised that despite the fire he was going to freeze without any blankets. “Would you be kind enough to sleep with me and share your heat?” he asked the wolf.

The beast cocked his head to the side, fixing him with his strange blue eyes. They were too smart for an animal’s. The King realised he was pondering his words. Arthur closed his eyes, letting him decide. A few moments later, the wolf curled up against him and Arthur smiled.

The King was awoken by someone punching him repeatedly in the side. He opened his eyes with a curse and looked down. The wolf was poking at him with his muzzle. Arthur sat up and the beast moved away with a jerk of the head. The man was surprised to have slept straight through the night without suffering from cold. He must have underestimated the beast’s body heat. He let out another curse when he saw the sun high in the sky. After more than a week of riding and sleeping rough, he desperately needed rest but now wasn’t the time for a lie in. He stood up. “It’s late already. We must leave at once. I’m afraid there will be no breakfast.” Then he wondered why a wolf would have any idea what breakfast was.

The wolf trotted away. Arthur made sure the fire was off and went after him. They made a halt at a stream to quench their thirst on the ice-cold water but apart from that they took no rest. Arthur was too anxious to be over with whatever the matter was, even though he’d grown fond of the wolf.

It was about mid-day when they reached a clearing. In its middle stood seven giant oaks, with trunks so wide two men couldn’t circle them with their arms. They went up tortuously, higher than any tree Arthur had seen. Their naked, gnarled branches sprawled like arms ready to strangle the first being daring to come closer. The ground was wrinkled by their thick roots rising on the surface and diving back a few feet farther. The whole scenery made Arthur shiver. It reminded him of the stories his nurse used to tell him when he was a little boy. Tales where the dead rose to haunt the living. Yet the sight brought him relief too, for he recognised the trees Gaius had talked about.

“You brought me to the place I was looking for!” he exclaimed, astonished.

The wolf held up his head high in pride and trotted merrily around him. Arthur briefly scratched the beast’s neck. He walked towards the trees, dismissing the uneasy feeling they’d brought. He had nothing to fear for now. The wolf hadn’t led him to some dangerous encounter. Something was bothering him, though. How could someone have sent the beast to guide him? Gaius, Leon and the knights he’d brought with him were the only ones to know about the Firepoppy. How could a sorcerer have had access to that information? And admitting he got it, why would he be willing to help?

Arthur stopped dead in his track, his heart missing a beat. He was such a fool. Of course, the eyes felt familiar. He’d seen them every day for years. “Merlin.”

The wolf froze. He turned around slowly and looked at Arthur. His ears were flat, his head low. He crouched, ready to flee. There was a wavering moment while Arthur took in what this discovery meant. His thoughts went back to the previous night and the way he’d let go, thinking nobody could see. The pain of Merlin’s betrayal came rushing back. “You fooled me again!”

The wolf looked down. He had the decency to seem sheepish.

“What have I done for you to take so much pleasure at playing with me?”

Merlin snapped his head up and whined. His eyes were so full of pain, Arthur hesitated to continue. But he was too angry.

“Come on, be a man and get rid of that wolf form to face me. Tell me! The snakes. Was it you? You wanted to bring me away from the knights? So what now?”

The beast bared his teeth, the skin on his nose winkled. He took a step closer.

“If you wanted to kill me you could have done so long ago. So what is it you’re seeking? Is this reward? Destruction? Revenge?”

Merlin growled. Arthur forced himself to stand his ground even though the beast was coming closer, his fangs threatening. The wolf stopped a few feet away. He barked several times, menacing, then he ran away.

It took a few moments for Arthur’s heart to stop racing. He cursed himself for losing his temper when he finally had a chance of facing Merlin again. If he had reacted differently… But there was not time for that. He needed to find the Firepoppy.

He walked to the trees. He panicked a little when he found the roots of the first oak naked. Then the second one. And the third. When Gaius had said the plant would be hard to find in this season, Arthur hadn’t imagined it could mean he wouldn’t find it at all. He let out a victorious cry when he finally saw chiselled leaves. Their back was pale orange, exactly like Gaius had said. He ripped a few off and secured them in the skin pouch hanging at his belt. Then he set to go back to Camelot. It was a long way on foot but going back and trying to find the knights would be even longer.

He’d been walking for a while when four men emerged from behind the trees. They wore chainmail and pieces of amour protected their arms. Arthur recognised the snake on their cloak. Lord Sallan’s knights. The King put a hand to his sword only to let out a curse when his fingers met empty air. He might be a skilled fighter but facing four trained knights armed only with a dirk was hopeless. Until a branch fell with a loud crack on two of his enemies. There was a flash a white fur and the wolf leapt on the closest knight. His teeth sunk deep into the man’s throat, blood staining the snowy muzzle. Rage was burning in the beast’s eyes. The hair raised on Arthur’s neck. When had the soft, cheerful Merlin turned so violent? But the last knight was marching on him, forcing him to focus.

Arthur crouched slightly and raised his dirk. He didn’t need it, in the end. Merlin leapt on the man before he could come close enough to hurt the King. But in his fall, the knight managed to move his sword and hit the wolf’s hind leg. Merlin yelped. Arthur hurried closer, ready to thrust his dirk in the man’s flesh as soon as he was sure not to hurt the wolf in the process. But Merlin didn’t need his help. With one angry bite, he took away half of the knight’s face.

For a moment, the beast stood still on the man’s chest and Arthur feared he would feed on the corpses. Then the wolf got off the knight, limped away from the road and disappeared from the King’s sight. Arthur stood hesitant. After what had just happened, it seemed any mistake could cost him dear. But Merlin was wounded. He took one of the swords lying on the ground and went after the sorcerer.

He found the wolf curled into a ball, his front legs crossed on his muzzle. He was whining softly. If it hadn’t been for the blood on his fur, it would have been hard to tell it was the same wolf that had just butchered two men. He rather looked like a puppy. A hurting, lost puppy.

Arthur thrust the sword in the ground and kneeled next to the wolf. He almost forgot himself and ran a hand through his fur to soothe him but he held back. He couldn’t pet _Merlin_. Instead, he looked at the deep cut on his hind leg.

“Can’t you do anything for your wound?”

Merlin slightly shook his head.

“Let me have a look.”

The wolf growled.

“You can’t keep on bleeding. Come on.”

Merlin unfolded his front legs and lifted his head. His eyes, full of fear, turned to the sword then to Arthur.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Their gaze locked for a moment. Then Merlin nodded.

Arthur didn’t have any potions or bandages so he tore away a piece of his cloak and tied it around Merlin’s leg. It wasn’t much but it would at least reduce the blood loss. When he was done the wolf nuzzled Arthur’s hand.

“You’re welcome.”

The King stood up and put the sword through his belt. “I guess that’s where we part.”

Merlin didn’t seem to agree. He bite at Arthur’s cloak and walked a few steps away. “What are you doing?”

Merlin pulled weakly on the fabric. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you but you’ve never been very good at finding your way in the woods. That’s not the way to Camelot.”

The beast pulled again. “I have no time for your games. I need to go back as quickly as possible.”

The wolf growled. “Merlin, this is ridiculous! I know it’s you. You don’t need to hide anymore. Just turn back into yourself and tell me what you want.”

The wolf stood still. When Arthur understood he wouldn’t transform back into a human, he sighed. He wasn’t sure he could trust Merlin again. On the other hand, what had the sorcerer done except helping?

“Right. Show me.”

The wolf padded away and Arthur followed. The blood on the white fur still made him slightly queasy. Merlin washing it away in a stream and turning into a fluffy ball after he shook the water away, spraying Arthur generously in the process, didn’t make the feeling disappear. Now the beast glistened as light caught the thousand icicles that had formed on his hairs.

Arthur got lost in his thoughts as they walked. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to say. He needed to convince Merlin to turn human again and talk to him. But he couldn’t lose his temper like he had earlier. He had to choose his words carefully.

“Merlin, I-“

The wolf barked. He stopped and sat on his haunches. Arthur stood next to him. He was going to ask what was going on when he heard voices. Then he recognised Percival and Oswin. Merlin had taken him back to the knights. He wouldn’t have to make all the way back to Camelot on foot. “Thank you,” he whispered. But when he looked down, the wolf had disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin sat leaning against a tree, a fire keeping him warm. He had reversed into his normal appearance but he was still slightly dizzy. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He hadn’t been completely himself in the body of the wolf. The beast’s instinct had taken more and more place in his mind. He was afraid what could have happened if he’d stayed in this form much longer. The memory of the knights he’d killed made him queasy.

His leg was still bleeding. He hadn’t dared trying to heal it without a spell. Now he was waiting for the dizziness to fade away.

“Merlin?”

The warlock jumped. He opened his eyes and saw Gwaine tying the reins of his horse to a tree.

“Gwaine? What are you doing here?”

“Oswin sent scouts to look for the King. I saw your fire.”

Gwaine walked closer. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

“But-“

“Look.”

Merlin put hand over the cut on his thigh and recited a spell. As his eyes turned gold, the wound closed.

“That’s… handy,” Gwaine commented.

“Quite.” Merlin smiled.

The knight sat down next to him. “Who did that to you?”

“A man who attacked Arthur.”

“Protecting him again, were you?”

Merlin shrugged.

“You know he can actually fight?”

“He didn’t have a sword.”

“Wait. Does that mean he saw you?”

“No, well, sort of. I turned into a wolf.”

Gwaine stared at him, awestruck. “You can...”

“Please, don’t ask me to show you. I… I don’t think I’ll ever do that again.”

“Why?”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it.”

He was too ashamed of what he’d felt as a wolf. The way the beast’s thoughts had become his own.

“Oh… As you wish. So… Where is he now?”

“Arthur? I showed him the way to get that plant you talked about so he’s riding back to Camelot. And I should be doing the same.”

“Are you mad?”

“I need to protect Arthur! I know he’ll want to fight that monster himself.”

“You’ve taken enough risks! What if someone sees you?”

“I can’t just stay here. Besides I don’t think… Arthur recognised me. He had the opportunity to kill me when I was wounded but he didn’t.”

“You might not have such luck in Camelot. It’s one thing to let you go in the middle of the forest but in front of the whole court…”

“I know. But I have to go anyway.”

Gwaine sighed and leaned back against the tree.

“Let me come with you.”

“But the knights-“

“You’ll need a horse to get to Camelot in time. If Arthur’s riding back to the city, Oswin will have left a man at the camp to tell the others and send them back. I can report to him and pick you up on the way back.”

“It’s too risky. If someone sees us together-“

“I’ve known the risk since the first time I came to visit you in the cave, Merlin. You won’t make my change my mind now.”

Merlin put a hand on his friend’s arm. He wished he could do more for him. But he could only say: “Thank you.”

***

Gwaine and Merlin arrived in Camelot the next day. With a little help of magic, they sneaked past the gate easily. Then, as they had time before nightfall, they decided to visit Gaius. They found him busy mixing plants. He nearly dropped the vial he was handling when he saw them.

“Merlin!” His eyebrow rose higher than the warlock had ever seen it. “You shouldn’t be here!”  
“Don’t bother,” Gwaine said. “I’ve already tried. You know how stubborn he is.”

Merlin didn’t even try to pretend he was offended. He was grinning from ear to ear.

“So? Did you miss me?”

“If I missed something about you, it is certainly not your recklessness.”

Merlin’s face fell at the physician hard tone. Then Gaius smiled.

“Of course, I missed you, you foolish boy!”

The warlock beamed. In three steps he had crossed the room and was hugging Gaius.

“Careful, I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry.”

The warlock let go, still grinning. Gaius looked at him for a moment then turned to Gwaine.

“Did you eat the food you said you brought him? He looks famished.”

“Oi! I did what I could!”

Merlin chuckled but dropped his gaze. Now that he’d overcome the apathy he’d felt in his cave, he was slightly ashamed of it. He wondered what Gwaine had told the physician about his visits. Not too much, he hoped. Gaius was certainly worried enough.

Gaius gestured to the table and Merlin and Gwaine sat down. The physician put a ham and a loaf of bread before them before taking place.

“Eat,” he said to the warlock. Then he eyed the knight’s envious stare and added, “You too, Gwaine.”

Merlin chuckled when Gwaine rushed to a knife and cut a slice of ham. Then, after a brief hesitation, the knight put the meat on a plate and handed it to Merlin. The warlock smiled fondly.

“How have you been doing since I left?” he asked as he started eating.

“Busy. Winter illnesses are strong this year. And that was before Orthus.”

Gaius seemed tired indeed. Merlin hadn’t notice before but it struck him now that he took time to watch.

“But I hope you’re not risking your life only to take news,” the physician added. “What are you doing here?”

“That beast. Arthur’s going to fight it tonight, isn’t he? He might need a little help.”

“Merlin! You-“

“I’ve tried that too,” the knight cut off. “He is stubborn.”

“Gwaine’s right,” Merlin said with a cheeky grin before the physician had a chance to reply. “So you can try to convince me to leave Camelot. Which you’ll fail. Or you can tell me what you know about Orthus.”

Gaius sighed.

“You are impossible.”

He seemed to ponder adding something but finally gave up. Merlin’s grin widened.

“So? The monster?”

“What do you know already?”

“It’s a dog. It’s big. It has two heads.”

“Orthus has three heads. He has a snake in place of a tail.”

“Right, three heads, then. You need a plant to kill it. Oh, did I mention it’s big?”

The physician rolled his eyes.

“I’m glad you take the matter so lightly, Merlin. However, I’d like to remind you Orthus killed two hundred people and I don’t want to have to add your name to the list tomorrow.”

“What is the matter with the plant?” Gwaine asked. “The King didn’t say much about it.”

“You can’t injure Orthus with a common weapon. It needs to be coated in a mixture of plants, including the Firepoppy, to cause an injury. Otherwise the monster heals almost immediately.”

“Can I beat it with magic?”

“Orthus has been created with very strong sorcery. You could, though I wouldn’t presume the same for other sorcerers. However, the power you would need to release in order to defeat it could be a threat to Camelot if you came to lose its control. And even if you didn’t, you would hardly go unnoticed.”

“No magic, then,” Gwaine commented.

“I fear not.”

“Do you know what the King has planned?”

“He will take two knights with him. They will be in the courtyard at nightfall. Everyone else is to stay inside.”

“What weapons will he have? Spears?”

“Yes, he’s asked for a supply of spears coated with the plant mixture. And his and his two knights’ swords, of course.”

“Would you happen to have enough of that mixture to coat two more swords?”

“Two?” Merlin exclaimed.

“You don’t think I’m going to stay here while you get all the fun, do you?”

“Gwaine! It’s going to be dangerous. I thought you didn’t want to fight for Arthur anymore.”

“I’m not doing it for him.”

Merlin’s heart clenched. He felt so guilty. He wanted to tell him to stop taking risks for someone who could never reciprocate his feelings but the hypocrisy in it made him cringe. His gaze locked with Gwaine’s and he could see his own determination reflected in his eyes. He had no choice but to accept his help.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Gaius cleared his throat and the two men turned to him.

“I do have some mixture left,” the physician said.

“Good, I’ll find a sword for Merlin.”

The warlock hoped he wouldn’t actually have to use it given his poor fencing skills but said nothing.

“Thanks, Gaius. And for the food, too.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if you have nothing planned until the night apart from not getting caught, would you care to help me preparing potions? I _have_ been busy.”

***

Merlin and Gwaine left Gaius’ chambers just before nightfall. Everything was silent outside and empty. People were cloistered in their houses or in the largest rooms of the castle turned temporarily into shelters. It hadn’t been enough for the two hundred that perished. Merlin preferred not to think too much about it. They hid under the archways surrounding the courtyard. Obscurity would help their presence remain unnoticed. That and the fact that the knights’ focus would be on the monster.

It wasn’t long before they saw Arthur walk down the stairs with Leon and Percival. They all carried several spears that they aligned against a wall. Once they were finished, the King gave a speech that Merlin couldn’t hear. Then they stood still and waited.

They heard the beast growl before they could see it. The loud, threatening sound sent shivers along Merlin’s spine. Then he saw it. A huge beast, at least twice the size of a man at the shoulder, with two enormous dog heads padded slowly in the yard. The serpent on his tail was hissing, guarding his back. Arthur walked alone towards Orthus. As soon as it saw him, the beast barked, baring huge, pointed teeth. The serpent turned around. Its long body arched and its head came standing just above the two others. Arthur didn’t tremble when the beast ran towards him. He had to take a step back as one of the dogs’ mouth snapped inches away from him. Then another when the snake reached to him. He raised his spear but couldn’t aim, to busy avoiding the three mouths.

He had almost gone back to the stairs when he seemed to realise he needed to change his tactics. He ran to the other side of the yard, letting a wide gap between him and Orthus as he passed the beast, then spun on his heels. The monster took no notice of the two knights and turned around. It charged. Arthur lifted his spear. For a few heartbeats, he stood still as the monster ran on him. Merlin nearly forgot himself and screamed. Then Orthus came within range and the King threw his spear. And missed. Leon ran towards him, quickly followed by Percival, but Arthur sent them back with a shout.

The monster was too close to avoid now. Arthur threw himself between its heads and managed to run under its body. He glanced around to find his spear but the beast was already charging back. Suddenly, he seemed stunned, his eyes going from Orthus to his weapon. Merlin sent the spear rolling towards him. Arthur bent to take it and used his momentum to throw it again as he stood up. The weapon hit one on the dogs’ eyes. The monster wailed. For a moment, the wounded head bent down, blood gushing down on its muzzle. Then the head rose again. It shook vigorously and sent the spear flying in the air. When its mouth snapped at Arthur, the blood had disappeared and the eye was healed.

“It doesn’t work!” Gwaine whispered.

Merlin’s stomach sunk. He didn’t even try to be subtle that time when he sent the spear back in Arthur’s hand. The King retreated to his knights and said a few words Merlin didn’t hear. Leon and Percival seemed to argue but finally they ran inside the castle. Thoughts went flashing in Merlin’s mind. Could Gaius’ books be wrong? Should he try killing Orthus with magic despite the physician’s warnings? Or was there another solution? Something the writings had not mentioned?

“Three heads! It has three heads!”

“Did you just notice?”

“We need to kill the three heads before they have time to regenerate.”

Gwaine stared at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely not. But it’s the only thing I see. That or Gaius’ books are wrong.”

It took a heartbeat for the knight to make his decision.

“I’ll go after the others and tell them. You stay here.”

“No way!”

“I know you want to fight. If things were different, I wouldn’t hold you back. But you’re banished, Merlin! They can’t see you.”

“I don’t care!”

Before Gwaine could say anything, Merlin was running away from the archways. He went after him with a curse. Just as he reached the sorcerer, two spears went flying from where they were aligned against the wall. One landed in Merlin’s hand and Gwaine caught the other.

“I take the snake,” he said before he ran to the back of the beast.

A heartbeat later, the warlock was beside Arthur, busy avoiding three jaws. The King’s eyes widened when he noticed him.

“Merlin! Go away! We can’t kill it!”

“We can! We need to kill the three heads at the same time.”

Orthus growled and the snake darted away. Whatever Gwaine had done to lure it seemed to work. Merlin moved away from Arthur to do the same with one of the dog heads.

“It’s too dangerous!” Arthur shouted as he ducked to avoid sharp teeth. “Go away and I’ll call Leon.”

“I can manage.”

Merlin threw his spear and controlled its trajectory to impale it between the beast’s eyes. “Got it!”

Beside him, Arthur hurled his weapon with the same satisfactory results. The dog heads swayed.

“Gwaine?” Merlin called. “We’re waiting on you.”

“I’m trying! That thing is fucking quick. And long.”

The heads slowly rose again. Merlin sent two spare spears to Arthur and himself.

“Gwaine! Hurry up!”

But it was too late. The heads shook and discarded the weapons. With a roar, they attacked again. Merlin kept his at a distance by thrusting his levitating spear around. He didn’t want to actually hit, this time, not before the others managed to do the same.

He could hear Arthur’s heavy breath a few feet away. The temptation was high to check on him, just for a heartbeat. But a heartbeat was long enough for the huge jaw to close on him. He needed to focus. The dog was quick. He had to keep his spear moving or it would just send it away with a jerk of the head. In the end, he thrust the weapon in the beast’s temple just to have a short rest. Orthus’ scream almost covered Gwaine’s. Merlin shouted his name.

“I’m alright.”

For a heartbeat, the warlock looked away from the beast, trying to catch sight of the knight. He noticed just in time the paw rising towards him. He hopped out of reach. The snake was continuously attacking with short jerks. Gwaine didn’t even try to kill it anymore. His right arm curled against his chest, he waved his spear to keep the beast away. Merlin wanted to run to him but just then, the dog head revived. It wouldn’t do, the warlock realised. They would all die if they continued that way.

Merlin killed the dog head again to be able to concentrate. He couldn’t defeat Orthus with magic but he might stun it just long enough for their need. A huge cloud formed quickly above Camelot. Then with a deafening crack, a thunderbolt fell on the snake head. The reptile crashed on the ground, wailing. Gwaine thrust his spear between its eyes. With a glance, Merlin ensured that the dog head he was assigned was still swaying limp.

“Arthur! It’s yours!”

The last head moved slower now. The King took a step to the side to avoid it and hurled his spear. It hit just below the ear. Orthus barked a last time then his legs gave way and it stumble on the ground.

The King bent forward, rested his hands on his knees and let out a deep breath. He’d done it. For a moment he’d thought Camelot was lost but he’d killed the monster in the end. All thanks to Merlin. His mind still in a blur, he stood up straight and walked to the sorcerer. Thoughts were swirling in his mind as their gaze locked. He couldn’t believe that Merlin was there, that he’d risked coming to Camelot for the sheer purpose of helping him. He couldn’t believe how glad he was to see his face again, despite the twist of guilt he felt when he noticed how thin Merlin was now. At least he had managed to heal his leg.

For what felt like an eternity, they just stood there. Arthur wanted to thank the sorcerer, to hug him, to say he was sorry, that he’d been wrong and yet his fears held him back. There were still so many things he didn’t understand. He couldn’t forgive Merlin yet, couldn’t quite trust him either. But he was ready to do what he should have done long ago: to listen.  
He never had a chance to do anything, though, because he felt something cold and sharp on the nape of his neck.

“If you do him any harm, I’ll kill you,” Gwaine said behind him.

“No! Don’t hurt him! “

Arthur watched, astonished, as Merlin’s face was struck in horror. The man he’d banished was protecting him from a friend.

“Gwaine,” the warlock continued. “Put down that sword. Please. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

The King put his hands in the air in surrender and finally found his voice again. He couldn’t let things escalade.

“Wow, there, calm down. No one is going to kill anyone.”

“Promise me,” Gwaine said through his gritted teeth.

“I won’t harm him. You have my word. Now sheathe your sword, please.”

Gwaine put down his weapon. That was the moment Leon and Percival chose to come running down the stairs, sword in hand. They slowed down as they saw the defeated monster. Then Leon noticed Merlin.

“You, traitor! How dare you?” he said and put the point of his sword on the sorcerer’s neck.

“It’s alright, Leon, put down your sword.”

“Sire?”

“That’s an order.”

Leon didn’t risk arguing.

“Bring the news that Orthus is dead. Ensure that people return calmly to their home. There’s no need to flee anymore. And bring Gwaine to Gaius. He’s hurt. Percival, you’ll escort Merlin gently to my chambers.”

Leon nodded and went to Gwaine. The latter was not ready to leave, though.

“If you try anything-“

“I gave you my word. Don’t insult my honour.”

His tone came out harsher than he’d intended to. He felt slightly guilty watching as Gwaine walked to the stairs. After all, the knight had just saved his life. And how could he blame him for defending Merlin? Arthur knew he would have done the same had their place been switched.

“Gwaine!” he finally called.

The knight turned to him with a cold gaze.

“Thank you.”

Gwaine’s eyes widened. He stared at the King for an instant then nodded and walked away. Percival, Merlin and Arthur soon followed them.  
 


	6. Chapter 6

The King had Percival escort Merlin to his chambers but ordered his knight to stay outside. He wanted the conversation to remain private and didn’t really believe the sorcerer would kill him now when he’d just saved his life. And he even if he did, a knight would probably not hold him back. Arthur gestured to table. Merlin sat down and he took place opposite him.

So many questions had swirled in Arthur’s mind since he’d realised Merlin was following him in the woods, he wasn’t sure where to begin. Then he realised he might as well say what really mattered.

“You saved my life today. And several other times during my two latest expeditions in the wood. I believe I should start by thanking you.”

Merlin smiled. It was one of these smiles that brought sparkles to his eyes and that Arthur always found hard not to return. It made him look innocent, almost child-like. The King dismissed the thought.

“How did you know for the heads?” he asked.

“I didn’t. I sort of… guessed.”

“You… guessed?”

Merlin nodded vigorously.

“What if you were wrong?”

“It was worth a try.”

Arthur shook his head and held back a smile. It was difficult not to let Merlin’s carefreeness and good mood get at him. It almost felt like nothing had happened and he was still his servant and they were just sharing one of these moments of complicity they used to have. Except it wasn’t. Merlin had betrayed him and he couldn’t just forget it. And just like that the wound opened again. The pain came back.

“Right,” he said and Merlin’s smile disappeared at his cold tone. “I won’t beat around the bush. If you want any reward for what you’ve done today and in the woods, now is the time to make your claim.”

The light faded in the sorcerer’s eyes. The sparkle, the innocence, the hope slowly faltered.

“What?”

“You heard me. What do you want? Is it the lift of your banishment that you’re looking for or-“

“How… How can you think that? In all these years, when have I ever asked you for a reward?”

There was hurt in his eyes now and sadness and disappointment.

“Well, you’ve been pretty good at hiding who you really are.”

Merlin winced. He bit his lips and his gaze dropped to his hands.

“I didn’t… I didn’t want that. I’m sorry. Magic was the only thing I hid, I-“

“A pretty big thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice broke. Arthur waited for something more, trying not to see the tears forming in Merlin’s eyes. When nothing came, he insisted:

“So? You don’t want anything?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to believe you’ve stayed in Camelot, even came in the castle, and thereby risked your life for the sole purpose of helping me? And that once you were done, you were just going to leave unnoticed and hide in the woods?”

“Yes.”

“I find it very difficult.”

“But that’s the truth!”

Merlin looked up again. It was hard not to believe him when emotions were so raw in his eyes but Arthur couldn’t accept it.

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because that’s what I’ve done from the very first day. I’ve protected you. And I will continue to do so until the end.”

“Why would I believe you?”

Merlin remained silent for a while, frowning in concentration. Then he asked with a slightly shaking voice:

“May I show you something?”

“Something magic?”

“Yes.”

Arthur hesitated for a heartbeat then nodded. Merlin cupped his hand on the table, palms facing upwards, and his eyes turned gold. A ball appeared in his hand. It had a light blue glow and felt familiar. It soared until it reached his eye-level and stopped there, levitating. Arthur remembered. The cave, the giant spiders, the light that had guided him.

“It… It was you.”

Merlin smiled softly. The ball flied lazily towards Arthur, went around his head then it disappeared.

“But you were unconscious.”

The sorcerer shrugged. The memory of that day, so long ago, when Merlin had drunk from the poisoned cup in his place and Arthur had been determined to do anything to save him, the discovery that Merlin had helped him back then, that was all it took for Arthur to surrender.

“Alright. Tell me everything.”

And so did Merlin, from the day of his arrival in Camelot to his return to help beating Orthus. He answered the King’s questions about Kilgharrah and told him how he’d free him, how the dragon had broken his promise not to attack Camelot and how, after Balinor’s death, Merlin had been able to send him away. He spoke about his magic and all the times he’d used it to protect Arthur, about how he’d wanted to tell him and his fear of not being able to watch over him anymore. As he talked, Arthur felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach growing larger and larger.

By the time Merlin was finished, Arthur’s mind was in a haze. He didn’t see the sorcerer or the room around him. He had forgotten the pain of the betrayal and his mistrust. All he could feel was the void swallowing him. All he could see was the cliff he was suddenly standing on and the nothingness below.

“Everything I’ve achieved… It was you.”

“No! No, I only helped.”

“Every victory… All this time, I thought I was proving I was worthy of the throne but-“

“Arthur, that doesn’t change who you are! You are a good King, just and merciful and generous. You're the greatest King Albion will ever know. I only made sure you’d live until that day.”

Arthur’s eyes finally managed to focus again and he looked at Merlin.

“Is that really what you believe? Even though I banished you despite all you’ve done for me?”

“Yes.”

It was all too much. This pure confidence Merlin had in him, this respect and admiration. Everything that hadn’t happened the way he’d thought. Arthur had trouble breathing.

“I-I need some time to think. Percival will escort you to your cell."

"Are you going to have me executed?"

“I gave Gwaine my word that you were safe, didn't I?"

Merlin's face fell slightly but Arthur didn't notice.

"But I can't have you walk freely for now," the King added. "I'll make sure you're comfortable."

And by comfortable he meant not in the dungeons but in one of the guest chambers. He stood up and left the room to give his orders to Percival waiting outside.

*****

Arthur didn’t sleep that night. After the initial shock had passed, he visited the wounded in the great hall, reassured the people who had found shelter in the castle. It helped ignoring the void. But it was still there when he returned to his chambers, still threatening to swallow him. When morning finally came, he summoned Gaius.

The physician seemed exhausted as he sat down opposite Arthur. The King felt slightly guilty.

“Thank you for your time, Gaius. I know how precious it is during this dark period.”

The physician nodded.

“I sent for you because I wish to discuss Merlin. As I understand, you knew all along.”

Gaius tensed but before he could say anything Arthur added: “You have nothing to fear. I know you’ve always been loyal to my father and to me. I’d like to ask you… How powerful is he exactly?”

“Some say he is the most powerful sorcerer to have ever existed.”

That was certainly not the answer Arthur had expected. It took a moment for him to register the information. Why would such a man accept to be a mere servant for years? It seemed so unbelievable and yet… Yet it was so Merlin.

“Sire, if I may,” Gaius added as the King remained silent for a while. “Merlin is not a threat. All he’s ever done was for you.”

“So he told me. But for how long? Let’s admit I forgive him and annul his judgment. What will happen next, in ten, twenty years? Sorcery corrupts the minds of those who practice it.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong, as was your father. It’s not sorcery that corrupts; it’s the power it offers. Exactly as power can corrupt the mind of Kings. Merlin doesn’t care about power. He uses his magic to help people, to help you, but he never does so in a self-interested way. He never will. ”

It made sense somehow. Merlin was so self-less. Arthur couldn’t imagine him turning into one of the arrogant and greedy sorcerers he’d met over the years. But what if he was wrong? So much was at stake.

He couldn’t reflect much longer on the matter because the door opened suddenly and Gwaine stormed in. He put his hands on the table and leaned towards Arthur.

“You gave me your word!” he shouted.

“And I kept it. Merlin is safe.”

“You arrested him!”

“Gwaine, you have to understand. He is banished upon pain of death. I can’t just let him wander in the castle. I will give him another trial but until then he has to remain in detention.”

“And what will be his sentence this time?”

Arthur hesitated. It was too early to take a decision but such an answer wouldn’t satisfy Gwaine. A knock on the door came to his rescue. Leon entered and bowed swiftly.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Sire, but an envoy from Lord Sallan has arrived.”

“What does he want?”

“He says Lord Sallan is saddened by Camelot’s ordeals and is coming to offer his help. He will be there this afternoon.”

“So you were right. He sent the beast on Camelot to discredit me and planned on gaining my people’s trust by killing it.”

“Should I send the envoy back with the word that Orthus is dead?”

“No. I want to meet Lord Sallan and make sure he won’t feel like plotting against me soon again.”

Leon nodded. Arthur turned to Gaius and Gwaine.

“I’m afraid our conversation will have to wait.”

***

Lord Sallan was a tall, broad-shouldered man. This general impression was reinforced by his stately demeanour and the self-confident look on his face. In his richly decorated armour and blue cloak, he did make an impressive sight. As the man and his knights entered the courtyard and discovered Orthus’ corpse, though, Arthur was satisfied to see his assurance falter.

“Lord Sallan,” he greeted when the man stopped in front of the stairs. “How generous of you to come and help Camelot in these times of need.”

Sallan dismounted and gave the reins to a stable boy. He bowed curtly.

“Your Highness, I was horrified when I heard of a monster attacking your castle. I could only come and do my best to assist you.”

“As you see, however, we managed without your help.”

“I’m glad you did, your Highness.”

“I heard of your help to the villages near your border too. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t thank you for giving them back what your men stole.”

“Wha-“

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your tricks? And this monster… I must say that was a clever plan. You found a way to lure me away from Camelot, spread the rumour that I was a coward and now you come in your shiny armour to save my people and discredit me.”

Arthur noticed with pleasure that people had stopped in their way across the yard to listen. He could spread rumours too.

“I will not tolerate another word! You have no proof!”

“Neither do you. So I suggest you take your knights and go back to your castle.”

“And allow you to shatter my honour? Never!”

Sallan took off his left glove and threw it at Arthur.

“I challenge you. Single combat.”

The King sighed. Of course this wasn’t the kind of man to retreat sheepishly when his plot failed. He bent down and took the glove.

“Challenge accepted. Midday tomorrow on the tourney ground. Until then, you and your men will stay out of the castle.”

****

A servant was helping Arthur putting his armour when the guard shoved Merlin inside his chambers. He had a tight grip on the sorcerer's arm. Merlin wriggled to break free but froze when he noticed the apprehension in Arthur's eyes. His furiousness faltered, replaced by a tight feeling in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Sire. The prisoner went mad and he refused to calm down unless we brought him to you.”

Arthur tilted his head to the side and looked at the warlock.

“Merlin? Did you threaten your guard?”

The sorcerer looked down sheepishly. He hadn’t intended to. Only… Well, the words had come out of his mouth before he’d realised. And it was efficient.

“He said he would turn me into a toad, Sire.”

“A toad?”

Merlin blushed. He could hear a note of amusement in Arthur's voice, though. Not fear, not anger, only mild amusement. It felt nice. Then he winced because the guard tightened his grip on his arm.

“Let go of him.”

“Sire?”

“I’m sure he could turn you into whatever creature he likes even if you’re holding him. And breaking his arm will certainly not work in your favour.”

The guard released the sorcerer who finally dared to look up. Wariness was still present in Arthur's eyes but there was curiosity there too. He turned his head slightly to see Merlin over the servant's shoulder. The man seemed to be struggling with the leather strap on his shoulder to secure his gorget. Merlin's stomach hardened as he watched him.

“May I ask why you’re so desirous to see me?”

“Gwaine told me I wouldn’t be allowed to watch the combat.”

The servant finally managed to buckle the strap and moved to the other shoulder. The warlock held back a growl.

“Merlin, do I have to remind you that you’re a prisoner?”

“What if something happens to you?”

“That’s the risk of single combat.”

“But-“

“I can’t have you advantaging me with your magic.”

The servant moved to fetch the next piece of armour and Merlin lost it. That was his place, not a random stranger’s. Helping Arthur into his armour had always been special, a sort of ritual. The familiar task helped him clear his mind. It was the last peaceful moment before the battle, the last time they were alone together. They didn't usually talk but there was an intimacy in these moments that they didn’t share normally. Somehow, it was a way to say goodbye silently. Being excluded from this moment, watching someone else in what used to be his place, was a torture. He'd lost this privilege. He'd lost Arthur. He couldn’t bear it.

In four steps he’d crossed the room, the guard letting him go on a sign of the head from Arthur. Merlin took the metal piece from the servant's hands and nudged him away. The King tensed when Merlin came closer. The warlock's throat tightened.

“I wouldn’t use magic," he said in a hoarse voice as he carefully put the metal piece around Arthur's upper arm. "Not unless Sallan cheats.”

“Your very presence could be used against me. I’m sure Lord Sallan has informers who know you’re a sorcerer. If they claim you used magic to help me, we wouldn’t have any proof to contradict them. Besides, as I said, you’re a prisoner and prisoners can’t just go wherever they want.”

Merlin groaned and finished fastening the plate.

“But what if _he_ has a sorcerer?”

“Careful, Merlin, or I’m going to think you’re afraid I can’t win without you.”

The sorcerer chose to ignore him as he fetched the next piece of armour. How could Arthur understand? He didn't know the agony of watching the man he loved leaving for a battle, the need to protect him at all cost. Not being there as Arthur fought was like letting him down.

Merlin finished his work in silence. The moment was bittersweet. It felt almost like before. Almost. Because where they used to share intimacy and complicity, there was tension now. At least the King hadn’t asked the guard to take him away.

“You won’t change your mind, will you?” Merlin asked fidgeting with the strap on Arthur's shoulder. He was finished actually, he just couldn't bring himself to leave yet.

“I can’t.”

Merlin’s heart sank. There was no point insisting. He understood Arthur's decision. He swallowed the lump in his throat and, still staring at the leather strap, whispered: “Be careful."

“I will.”

The warlock finally let go of the buckle but Arthur caught his wrist. Merlin looked up and met the King's gaze.

"Thank you," Arthur murmured.

"What for?"

"Everything you did for me."

Merlin's breath caught in his throat. There was so much more in these words and this soft smile than simple thanks. It was acceptance. Arthur might not have forgiven him, he might still be wary around him but he understood that the sorcerer had helped him. He understood it wasn't part of a plot or out of self-interest. Merlin wasn't sure where they stood but that was certainly encouraging. He smiled back.

"I have to go," Arthur said after a while.

He gently squeezed Merlin's wrist before releasing him. Then he called the guard to take the sorcerer back to his cell.


	7. Chapter 7

Lord Sallan was already waiting in the centre of the tourney ground. Even on foot, he had that stately demeanour, that arrogant look that made Arthur want to punch him. The King took his time to cross the distance that separated them. In the stands, the crowd was cheering for him. Sallan's tricks to win the heart of Camelot's people had failed. Arthur tried to find comfort in that thought. If he died, Sallan wouldn't hold Camelot as easily as he'd hoped.

Both men saluted then took a defensive posture. Arthur let Sallan attack first. Their blades met a few times in a series of simple blows then they both took a step back. It was only about gauging their opponents for now, making him move, searching for a weakness. Then Sallan lost his patience. He made a series of attack, forcing Arthur to walk back. Sallan was quick. He stroke blows high then low then high again. Arthur contented himself with parrying. Sallan couldn't hold this pace for long. 

Then Arthur saw an opening. Sallan wielded his sword high above him, hoping to crush it on the King's head. Arthur let go of the hilt of his weapon to hold the blade with his both hands and raised it above him. The blades collided. Before Sallan could move back, Arthur kicked him in the chest. Sallan was projected a few steps back but managed to stay on this feet.

They circled slowly for a while, both on the defensive. Much to Arthur's displeasure, Sallan didn't seem affected by the kick. Again the Lord was the first to strike. Arthur parried, walking back, swirling to avoid some of his blows. His breath was shallow now. He couldn't continue much longer like this. He needed to find a way to break Sallan's succession of attacks. 

The opportunity came similar as the first one. Sallan raised his sword high and Arthur parried holding his blade in both hands. Only this time he thrust the hilt to Sallan's throat. The Lord fell a step back and Arthur took advantage of his loss of balance to kick him in the chest. Sallan fell to the ground. Arthur overlooked him. He wielded his sword then thrust it in the earth just next to Sallan's head. The crowd cheered.

“You and your men will leave the castle by nightfall. And you’d better tell your bandits to leave my kingdom too.”

***

Arthur had just come back to his chambers when Merlin entered, held by a guard, much like he’d done earlier. 

“Did you threaten your guard again?”

“I… Uhm… I might have.”

“You need to stop doing that.”

Merlin didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Arthur realised he couldn’t be mad at him. He gestured the guard to leave them.

“Gwaine told me you won.”

“See, I can manage without you.”

The sorcerer’s face fell and Arthur felt a pang of guilt. 

“Are you alright?”

“I am. But, Merlin, you have to stop doing that. Scaring the guards, I mean. Starting rumours about you turning people into toads is not a good way to get your magic accepted in Camelot. “

Merlin bit his lip. His face lightened.

“Does that mean…”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I’ll behave. I promise. Unless you’re in danger, of course.”

The King chuckled. 

“Stop worrying for me.”

“I can’t.”

Arthur’s heart missed a beat. There was so much openness in the way Merlin said those words. He cared so much. How could Arthur have ever believed Merlin had faked these feelings all these years? 

Merlin walked closer. Without a word, he started unbuckling a strap on Arthur’s arm. 

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you out of your armour. What do you think?”

“Merlin, you’re not my servant anymore.”

The sorcerer winced. 

“I had hoped… In case you allowed me to stay in Camelot… You could… Take me back.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open. 

“Are you serious?”

Merlin looked up with pleading eyes. He was. He honestly wanted nothing more than to serve Arthur. How was that even possible? How could the mightiest sorcerer on earth yearn for nothing more than to be a servant? The King remembered Gaius’ words about power and evil sorcerers and he realised he was right. Merlin would never become one of them. A wave of fondness washed over Arthur. 

“Please, would you just… Think about it?”

Arthur didn’t have the heart to refuse. Not when Merlin was looking at him like that. The sorcerer turned away briefly to put the piece of armour he’d just removed on the table and concentrated on the next strap.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked after a short silence.

“I-I’m not sure what to think yet.”

“You know, if it helps I could swear you an oath. A magical one. I wouldn’t be able to do anything against you, then. And I couldn’t break it.”

“And what if you have to prevent me from doing something stupid? No. I don’t want you to chain yourself to me. That’s not how trust works.”

Merlin abandoned the armour to look at Arthur. The King was amazed by what he was willing to do for him. For a moment, Arthur wondered if he really deserved such an unconditional loyalty.

“I wouldn’t mind. Really, if-“

“No. I don’t want a slave, Merlin.”

“It wouldn’t be like that! I wouldn’t have to obey each word from you. I just couldn’t harm you or be any threat to Camelot.”

“Does that mean you could now?”

“No! I would never hurt you!”

Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and smiled.

“Then I only need to learn to trust you again.”

Mindlessly, Arthur began stroking Merlin’s neck with his thumb. He found it difficult to stay mad at the sorcerer and that scared him. He should have put him in the dungeons; he should have increased the number of his guards after the incident earlier that day. He shouldn’t be alone with him. Only he couldn’t help his fondness for the warlock. The betrayal still hurt but when he looked at Merlin he put it aside. He could forgive him. He could trust him again. It felt so easy when the sorcerer was smiling at him, his eyes sparkling with hope and tenderness. All Arthur really wanted was for things to go back like they had been before, to find this complicity again, to have Merlin by his side. No, scratch that, he didn’t want everything to be exactly like before. He didn’t want Merlin to be his servant, not even his friend. He wanted more. The thought took him aback and he fought it vigorously. He’d suffered enough. He wasn’t going to allow anyone so close again, especially not someone who’d betrayed him already. He wasn’t even sure he could trust Merlin again.  
How could he be so weak? How could a simple smile make him forget years of lies? He couldn’t be so soft. Camelot’s future was at stake. Besides, Merlin’s magic still made him slightly uncomfortable. Arthur suddenly realised he was still stroking the sorcerer’s neck and took his hand away. His gaze shifted to the room over Merlin’s shoulder.

“Go on. If you’re going to help me out of my armour then finish your job.”

With a nod, Merlin set to remove the last plate on Arthur’s arm. He worked in silence. When the armour had been put away, he helped the King take off his chainmail. 

“Do you want a bath? I could-“

“I won’t have you running around to fetch water.”

“That’s not what I was thinking about. I could… You know…”

Merlin trailed off and his gaze dropped to the ground.

“Magick it?”

“Yeah.”

“Merlin, I have not been exactly strict with you but be careful not to cross the limit.”

“Sorry.”

Arthur felt a pang of guilt when the sorcerer’s shoulders slumped. He had to be strong.

“Your guard will escort you back to your room.”

Merlin looked up with sad eyes but didn’t protest.

 

****

The fire was roaring in the fireplace and Merlin’s room was pleasantly warm as Gwaine sat opposite him at the table, his right arm in a sling. The sorcerer had offered to heal him but Gwaine had refused flatly. Testing Arthur’s limits didn’t seem a good idea to him. He’d brought a meat pie that he cut in two halves. Merlin reached avidly for his.

“Gaius told me you were helping him with the wounded?” the warlock asked after taking a bite.

“Apparently, the King believes it’s safer to keep me away from military tasks.”

“I can’t blame him.”

The knight rolled his eyes. 

“You couldn’t blame him for anything.”

“Let’s not go there, please.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Silence settled for a while before Merlin found the courage to say:

“Look, I know you’re only staying here because of me and I appreciate it but… I don’t want to hold you back. You’re not happy here.”

“What about you? Who would make sure the King doesn’t harm you?”

“And what are you going to do if he does? Get yourself killed? It’s ridiculous, Gwaine. I came back knowing what I risked if I got caught and I’m ready to accept the consequences.”

Besides, he didn’t think Arthur would hurt him even though he had seemed wary at the mention of Merlin using magic the day before. The sorcerer didn’t say it though. Gwaine wouldn’t believe it.

“You should leave,” Merlin added. “You should find someone you want to fight for or do whatever you want to but you can’t stay here being miserable.”

“I’m not miserable, thank you very much.”

“Then you’ll be soon if you keep fighting for someone you hate.”

“I don’t even fight anymore. Besides, I don’t hate the King.”

“That’s only because you have too much respect for me.”

Gwaine looked down. His hair fell in front of his face. Merlin’s heart clenched and he put a hand on his friend’s wrist.

“You need to find someone who can give you what I can’t.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” the knight asked with a cheeky smile.

“Of course not. I’m just worried about you. I want you to be happy. Please… Think about it.”

Gwaine sighed and rubbed his face.

“Alright, I’ll think about it. But in any case I won’t leave until I’m certain you’re safe.”

Merlin squeezed his wrist. He would miss Gwaine if he left but seeing him linger in Camelot where there was nothing left for him broke his heart. He’d often wished he could do more to thank him. Now he realised that letting him go and encouraging him to find his place was the best way to do it.

***

Arthur resisted the urge to visit Merlin all but three days. Knowing the sorcerer was in Camelot and not seeing him had rapidly become a torture. He had too many questions to ask and maybe apologies to make too. But most of all, he missed Merlin. He wouldn’t admit it aloud but his life felt different without the cheerful, babbling man that had been part of it for so many years. Colder somehow. Dull. 

He cursed himself for being so weak when he reached Merlin’s room. Then he tried to convince himself that he only visited the sorcerer to make up his mind about his future. He did need to take a decision soon anyway.

He found Merlin sitting on the floor in front of the fire. The warlock jumped when he heard him. Something in the flames flickered. His eyes widened as he saw the King.

“Arthur,” he said in a shaking voice. 

The King sat down beside him. He wondered why the sorcerer was so tense suddenly then he realised it might have something to do with what he glimpsed in the flames.

“Were you doing something to that fire?”

Merlin swallowed nervously.

“I-I wasn’t doing anything dangerous. I promise! I was… I-“

“Hey, calm down. It’s alright.”

He gently squeezed Merlin’s shoulder. Then he realised the irony of the situation and smiled.

“You’re the one who could kill me with a few words yet you’re the one who’s scared.”

“I would never do that!”

“I know. What were you doing?”

“Just… playing a bit. Making shapes in the fire.”

Arthur had been wary the last time Merlin had made an allusion to his magic. It still made him slightly uncomfortable but more because it was hard to get used to the idea that the man that had been his closest friend for years had magic rather than because he was scared. He was curious too. To discover a side of Merlin he didn’t know. To see what magic could do when used by someone else than the greedy sorcerers he’d met throughout his life. 

He stared at the flames, pondering. The decision he was making could change the whole kingdom. Yet he realised that if Merlin’s betrayal had concerned anything else than magic, his attitude since his banishment, the revelations about his helping Arthur would have suffice to prove he didn’t mean any harm. Sorcery was a touchy subject but only because Uther had been so afraid of it. He’d passed down his fear to his son. And in a way, Uther was right: magic could be dangerous. But was Merlin a different person only because Arthur had learned something more about him? Did it change everything he’d done before? Arthur didn’t think so.

“Show me,” he whispered.

Merlin turned to him with wide eyes.

“Are you sure?”

Arthur nodded with a smile. Soon a wolf appeared in the fire, running on the spot under the King’s fascinated gaze. It stopped, tilted his head then sat on his haunches and pointed his muzzle to the ceiling as if it was howling.

“It’s… far from the chaos and destruction my father described,” Arthur finally said without looking away from the flames.

“Evil is in the heart of men. Magic is only a tool.”

“You’re wise. More than me, it seems.”

“No. You were taught to fear magic since your birth. How else could you react than be scared of me? But you weren’t completely blinded by it or else I wouldn’t be here. That’s what matters. And now… I hope you understand you were wrong.”

“Is that your way of saying you forgive me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

They remained silent for a while. In the flames, the wolf had turned into a knight in full armour riding a horse. There were many things Arthur had yet to learn about magic. But this wasn’t the right time. There were a few matters to settle before. And one question that had been nagging him.

“You didn’t talk about the day my father died,” Arthur said.

The knight disappeared as Merlin tensed.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. But-”

“Don’t. It must have been hard for you to protect me while he executed people like you. I-I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, watching them hunted down and executed. I think… I think I can understand why you did it.”

He could see Merlin’s eyes fill with tears as he talked but he ignored it. He needed to get it out. If the sorcerer could forgive him for his banishment and his mockery of a trial then Arthur had to be sure he knew he could forgive him for this.

“You… You’re saying that-“

“Yes.”

Merlin was speechless for a while, staring at him with wet eyes. His voice was hoarse when he finally talked again.

“But I didn’t kill him.”

“You just said-“

“Yes, that was me but my spell healed him. Only Morgana had put an amulet on him that reversed its effect.”

“But why would you that? After everything he’s done, why would you save him?”

“Because you loved him and you asked me to.”

It sounded so simple in Merlin’s mouth. Arthur couldn’t believe it. He could accept Merlin saving him, saving a friend, but the man who persecuted sorcerers? This was just too much. What had Arthur done to deserve such a loyal, self-less friend? 

“Stop staring at me like that! I did my duty, that’s all.”

“You did much more than that. I… I wish I could do something to thank you.”

“Have you thought about my suggestion?”

“What do you mean?”

“Taking me back as your servant?”

“You have to be joking.”

Merlin’s face fell. Apparently, he wasn’t.

“Merlin! That’s not a reward. That’s… That’s a punishment.”

“That’s not how it felt. I mean I wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea of polishing your armour and your boots but… I liked it.”

“But you’re… the most powerful sorcerer walking this earth. How can you wish to be a servant?”

Merlin shrugged.

“I guess it would be much easier now that you know I could turn you into a toad.” 

For the first time since the trial, Arthur burst out laughing. It was nice. It felt like everything was falling into place again. 

“What’s so special about toads, though?”

“Nothing. I could choose something else if you want. A rat? Or a donkey? No, not a donkey, I already heard you bray.”

“No need to remind me about that.”

Merlin grinned. Arthur tried to give him a cold stare but failed miserably and ended up grinning too. 

“But seriously, I can’t do that. I know ranks and titles don’t matter to you but it does to me.”

“Arthur, please. It wouldn’t be an honour if it kept me away from you.”

That’s when Arthur understood. It wasn’t only about Merlin using his magic to help him. It was about him taking care of everything for Arthur, cheering him up when he felt bad, giving his opinion when it was needed and just generally being there for him. And being with him. That mattered too. Merlin’s acts weren’t only motivated by loyalty and friendship. Something that was so clear in his eyes right now that Arthur couldn’t understand how he’d never seen it.

“I want you close to me.”

The words escaped Arthur’s lips before he could realise what he was saying. But that was the truth. He’d been miserable without Merlin. Now that he was back, he didn’t want their duties to keep them apart. To be honest, he would have loved to take him back as a servant but that just seemed too unfair. Was that even normal to yearn so much for the presence of a friend?

“Really?”

“Really.”

Merlin was beaming at him and a wave a fondness washed over Arthur. But was it really fondness? He thought about what he’d felt a few days before, when he’d briefly imagined Merlin being more than a friend. He had never questioned his feelings before. They just happened to be there. But realising he was more than a friend for Merlin made him ponder.

“So… I’m not a prisoner anymore?”

“You are until I officially annul your sentence. You’ll have a trial in a few days.”

“But how are you going to justify it? Are you going to say I’m forgiven because I helped you with the beast or…”

“Actually, I was thinking of lifting the ban on magic.”

Merlin’s mouth fell open and had the moment not felt so solemn, Arthur would have chuckled at the sight.

“Are you… Are you serious?”

“You’re the proof that magic isn’t always bad, aren’t you?”

“You’d do that for me?”

The sorcerer’s voice was slightly shaking as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Yet his eyes sparkled. For a moment, Arthur wanted to say that yes, he was changing the law only for Merlin, that he’d done anything for him, but he didn’t. He was too afraid of what these thoughts implied to even accept them let alone speak them. 

“I do that because you made me realise I was wrong.”

Merlin dropped his gaze but not quickly enough to hide a flicker of disappointment. Arthur’s heart tightened.

“And yes… For you too,” he added after a while.

The sorcerer looked up, beaming again. He leaned to hug Arthur. The King tensed for a heartbeat then he hugged him back. He felt Merlin’s breath on his skin as Merlin cradled his face in his neck. Mindlessly, Arthur rubbed circles on the sorcerer’s back. It felt nice. It felt right. He wasn’t so sure he should be afraid anymore. 

When Merlin broke the hug to sit up, Arthur held him back. The sorcerer’s eyes widened as he put a hand on his cheek and stroke it gently. Merlin’s breath caught a the King let his thumb glide to his lips. How many times had he stared at them without admitting it? His heart was pounding in his chest. Slowly, he crossed the distance between them. For an instant, Merlin froze as their lips met. Arthur paused, panicking briefly before he felt the sorcerer’s tongue on his lips.His mouth opened and the King moaned. Merlin clutched at his tunic. And nothing else mattered anymore.

They were breathless when they finally parted. Merlin stared at Arthur quizzically but his eyes sparkled with joy. There was still much left to say. It would have to wait, though. Arthur cupped the sorcerer’s face with his hand and kissed him again.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin had a sinking feeling the next day as a guard escorted him to Arthur's chambers. He wondered if the King had changed his mind. If he was afraid Merlin might have enchanted him or something along those lines. Because why would he send a guard fetch him instead of simply coming in person?

The guard shoved him inside Arthur's chambers and closed the door behind him, leaving Merlin standing awkwardly there. Arthur sat at the table on the other side of the room. He looked up and smiled at the sorcerer.

"Are you shy suddenly? Just come and sit down, will you?"

Merlin crossed the room warily. Arthur certainly didn't seem angry but it wasn't enough to reassure the sorcerer. He sat down opposite him.

"Is there something wrong?" the King asked, searching Merlin's eyes.

"Well, you did send a guard to summon me."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

The warlock relaxed a little.

"So you're not going to accuse me of enchanting you or anything?"

"Merlin…"

Arthur put a hand on the sorcerer's and stroked it slowly with his thumb. Then there was a knock on the door and he broke the contact hurriedly. A servant came in carrying a tray overflowing with food. He arranged the plates on the table, bowed curtly and disappeared.

"I only thought you'd be hungry."

Merlin looked down sheepishly and bit his lip.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. Would it help if I told you that I lifted the ban on magic this morning while you were having a lie in?"

"I was not!"

"There's a pillow mark on your cheek, Merlin."

The sorcerer rubbed vigorously at his skin until Arthur took his hand away to replace it by his own. He gently stroked his cheek then his smile turned mischievous and he said:

"It's the other one. Now eat, I'm sure you're starving."

Merlin pouted for good measure but took a spoonful of stew anyway. Silence settled for a while. The warlock couldn't believe magic was legal now. Even though Arthur was a great King, Merlin had begun to think he would never see this day. And there was this other thing he hadn't seen coming too. He grinned, forgetting the food for a moment. Arthur caught his gaze and smiled.

"You'll be a free man tonight," the King finally said. "I settled your trial for this afternoon."

“So soon?”

“The sooner the better, isn’t it?”

“I guess. But… Well, the bed in my room is comfy. Can I keep it?”

Arthur chuckled.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go back to live with Gaius for a while. Until we decide on your new functions.”

Merlin pouted but the King ignored it. He put his hand on the sorcerer’s.

“There’s something I need to warn you about.”

The warlock immediately became serious again.

“What is it?”

“Over the years my father has passed on his fear of magic to his people. The council was shocked by my decision to lift the ban. The people will be too. It might take a while before they accept it completely. They are likely to be suspicious of you. I know it won’t be easy for you but these things take time.”

“I understand. Better not showing off then?”

“Exactly. Except... I was thinking… Could you help Gaius treat the monster’s victims? That might help people accept you.”

“Healing is not my specialty but I’ll do my best. Providing that the patient agrees, of course. But… You’re not hoping I can make their limbs grow back, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good.”

Arthur stared at Merlin. He had that same fascinated look that he’d had the day before when the sorcerer had made images in the fire. Now that he wasn’t afraid anymore he really seemed curious about the warlock’s abilities. He had a lot to learn and Merlin would have pleasure in teaching him.

After their meal, Merlin had to go back to his room to wait for the trial. He had a hard time holding back his grin when two guards escorted him to the great hall. Once again, they made him kneel in front of the throne but he felt much less pathetic this time. His back was straight, his chin high. He lost it and beamed when Arthur looked down at him. He noticed how the King had to clench his jaw not to smile back.

“In the light of the recent change in the law concerning the use of magic, pronounced against you, Merlin, your sentence must be reviewed. Sorcery is no longer banned in Camelot therefore you shall walk freely in the castle as well as in the kingdom. Your banishment is revoked. You may rise.”

Merlin did so. Chatter rose in the room as Arthur pronounced his statement. There was surprise in some voices, fear in others. Finally a man shouted:

“The sorcerer is a threat to the Kingdom! He must leave! Who knows what he could do?”

A few voices joined him. Arthur’s fingers curled into fist. He took a deep breath before answering with a calm but stern voice.

“I understand your concern. It is true that magic has been used against the Kingdom before, however not by Merlin. In fact, Camelot would have fallen without his help.”

A gasp went through the crowd. Merlin felt his cheek burn as the stares turned to him. He hadn’t thought Arthur would make such a statement in front of the whole court. That wasn’t something he deserved. Public acknowledgment of someone’s role in a battle was something reserved for knights and heroes. He wasn’t one, was he?

Arthur called the meeting to an end and Merlin looked around to find a way of escaping the crowd’s gazes without giving the impression he was fleeing. That was when he saw Gwaine coming towards him. The knight smiled.

“So he finally understood.”

“Yes.”

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Arthur standing up and walking to him. The King briefly rested his hand on the small of his back and whispered in his ear: “Will you dine with me tonight?”

Merlin was too busy grinning to answer so he nodded. Arthur smiled back and disappeared. When the sorcerer turned his attention back to Gwaine, the knight was staring.

“So you two…” he trailed off with a wave of the hand.

“Could we have this conversation somewhere else?”

“Sure.”

They left the great hall and went to Gwaine’s chambers. 

“I’m happy for you,” the knight said once the door was shut behind them.

He smiled but Merlin could see the sadness in his eyes.

“He might not be as stupid as I thought,” Gwaine added.

The sorcerer chuckled half-heartedly. His chest was tight.

“I’m safe now.”

“Yes.”

“Have you thought about what I said?”

“Not really but… I guess you’re right. I should leave for a while. There’s nothing left for me here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We already went through that. It’s not your fault. Besides, it might be fun… Going from tavern to tavern again. It’s been a while.”

Merlin tried to smile. He would miss his friend.

“Hey, don’t make this face. I’ll come back to see you once in a while. Plus, you know… To make sure Arthur isn’t too much of a prat.”

The sorcerer bit his lip. It was the first time Gwaine said Arthur’s name since his banishment. He hoped it was a good sign, that the knight only needed time to sort through his feelings and could settle in Camelot again in the future. But most of all, he hoped Gwaine would find his place somewhere and live happily.

***

Merlin fell back in a routine after that. Not exactly the same as before as he wasn’t servant anymore but he still lived with Gaius, ran errand for him and helped him prepare potions that had become even more efficient now that magic was legal again. Every day, Arthur reserved some time for him and they would discuss magic. Arthur was a great listener. He was anxious to educate himself, to erase the prejudices he’d grown with and to understand how sorcery worked. And if he was distracted by his teacher’s lips from time to time, Merlin didn’t really mind.

Gwaine had left a few weeks before. The warlock hadn’t received any news yet but he wasn’t worried. Gwaine would visit him when he felt like it. It was good for him to take some distance. And if he wanted to come back, Arthur had promised he could take back his place among the knights of Camelot. Merlin missed him, especially considering most people were wary around him so Gwaine was his only friend left. But as long as Gwaine was happy wherever he was, the sorcerer could cope with his absence.

Merlin was focused as not to mess up his measurements for the potion he was preparing when someone knocked on the door. The sorcerer finished his mixing and looked up. It was Paul, Arthur’s manservant, who was still slightly wary around Merlin since the day he’d waved him away from the King’s armour. To Merlin’s surprise, Paul bowed curtly. That was new.

“I was informed by the King that he requires your presence, Sire.”

The sorcerer’s eyebrows raised high on his forehead. Had someone enchanted the poor Paul during the night?

“If you would follow me.”

“Of-Of course.”

Paul bowed again and led Merlin though the castle. They didn’t stop in front of Arthur’s chambers, tough, but the adjacent one. The servant opened the door, let Merlin in and closed it again. The King was waiting next to the fireplace. The room was large, much like Arthur’s when he was still Prince, furnished with a table, four chairs, a featherbed and a few cupboards. Two rich tapestries decorated the walls. With a smile, the King padded to him. He kissed him before pushing him gently towards the bed until Merlin’s legs hit the frame and he was forced to sit down.

“Is it comfortable enough for you? Not that you’re going to spend all your nights here but-“

“What do you mean?”

“That’s your room now.”

Merlin’s mouth dropped. Arthur smiled and stroked his cheek.

“That’s… Arthur, it’s huge and… I’m just-“

“The new Court Sorcerer. Which also means you’ll have a seat in the council and be my personal guard.”

“Are you drunk?”

The King’s face hardened. He took his hand away.

“Some people would be grateful for the honour I do them instead of questioning my sobriety.”

“No, I didn’t mean…”

Merlin sighed. He stood up and squeezed Arthur’s hand.

“I know you’re trying to thank me but it’s too much. I’m not… I’m just a servant, I can’t sit in the council. I don’t know anything. I would only embarrass you.”

“You’re wrong. You’ve been present at almost every meeting for years. You know more about how politics works than many people. You might not have a clue about military strategy but apart from that, your advices have always been valuable to me. You’ve never been just a servant. You’ll do what you’ve always done only now your role will be official.”

“I don’t need that. I didn’t mind working in the shadow.”

“I do. That’s how things work. A King needs a right-hand man and that’s you. I can’t… I feel ashamed to receive all the honours when I owe so much to you and no one knows it.”

“And what will the nobles say? I’m a peasant, in case you forgot. I don’t belong among them.”

“They’ll have to accept it. A man shouldn’t be valued according to his birth but through his actions. And you’re the bravest man I know. You’ve done more for Camelot than the whole council gathered.”

Merlin chuckled.

“And you’re not biased the slightest by the fact that I’m your lover.”

“No.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Stop belittling yourself. You wanted to stand by my side and that’s what I’m offering you. I know you can do it.”

“Arthur…”

It was hard resisting when the King was looking at him such a tender, loving gaze so Merlin looked over his shoulder. He didn’t like the attention Arthur’s suggestion would bring on him. He didn’t like the idea of being an official member of the court and not being able to pretend he was just a foolish servant to excuse any mistake he could make during official visits. Because he was just a foolish boy, wasn’t he?

“Please. I need you.”

Or maybe not. Maybe he could learn. He wanted to be there for Arthur, to help him, to protect him. So why was he so afraid to accept to do just that? He’d grown up since the day he arrived in Camelot, reckless and cheeky. Well, he was still reckless but he’d learned to keep silent and avoid diplomatic incidents. Now he could learn when to speak. He knew the pressure of destiny. He could bear the pressure of being the King’s right-hand. He could adapt. To help Arthur and stand by him, he could do that.

“Court Sorcerer mmh? It sounds good.”

He looked back at Arthur and smiled.

“So does that mean…”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to thank you?”

“I don’t care.”

Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s neck and kissed him. His free hand slid under the warlock’s tunic.

“Would this be an appropriate moment to test your new bed?” he breathed between to kisses.

“Absolutely.”

****

The sun warmed Arthur’s face pleasantly. Despite the chill in the air, he enjoyed the short trip in the forest. Leaves were finally growing on the trees. This long and hard winter was over. Arthur didn’t remember having ever welcomed spring so gratefully. With the handling of the aftermath of Orthus’ attack, including the rebuilding of the east aisle, and the stir that the legalisation of sorcery had caused among his people, this was the first time he could leave the castle and take time to himself since the monster’s death. 

His horse stepped out into a clearing and the sight took Arthur’s breath away. The grass was strewn with flowers. The first petals had barely appeared in the meadow around the castle but here… Here the ground was a rainbow. And in the middle sat the man who, without a doubt, was at its origin. 

Arthur dismounted and tied his horse next to Merlin’s. As he padded to his lover, the latter cupped his hands in front of his mouth. Soon a butterfly flew lazily towards Arthur and landed on his nose.

“You’re squinting,” Merlin said with a cheeky smile.

Arthur waved his hand to scare the insect away but it didn’t move.

“Very funny.”

The sorcerer giggled. Arthur sat down beside him on the blanket.

“Go on, laugh but I won’t kiss you until that thing has disappeared.”

The butterfly flew away. Arthur chuckled. It was almost too easy. 

“So? Where’s my kiss?”

“Impatient are we?”

“Well, you’re not the one who’s been sitting here for ages because someone was afraid the two of us leaving together was too obvious. As if half the court didn’t know already.”

“I can see you found a way to pass the time.”

Merlin pouted.

“So you guessed.”

“Flowers have barely started to bloom everywhere else, you idiot. I appreciate your effort, though.”

“Really? You like them?”

“It’s beautiful.”

Merlin grinned, apparently very pleased with himself.

“Good because I’ve been practicing.”

“You actually practiced growing flowers?”

“Yes? Why?” the sorcerer asked with a shrug.

“I can think of a few things more useful than that.”

“Well, I can think of a few things not exactly useful outside our chambers yet you didn’t mind me practicing them.”

Merlin gave him a sidelong glance. Arthur’s cheek flushed.

“Right, you’ve got a point.”

“Aw, you’re blushing!”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Merlin giggled. He moved closer and whispered in Arthur’s ear: “There’s another way I could make you blush.”

“Merlin! Not here! And what about our romantic picnic?”

“Who’s the girl now?”

Arthur rolled his eyes but pulled Merlin closer to finally kiss him. He put too much force in his move so he fell back on the blanket, dragging his lover with him.

They cuddled for a while then Arthur sat up slightly, resting on his elbow to enjoy the sight of his lover. He wore a blue satin tunic and an embroidered vest that were part of the clothes the King had had made for him before his official nomination as court sorcerer. Merlin used to complain a lot about feeling dressed up and ridiculous. He would change into his old clothes as soon as he could. It had taken time but Arthur hadn’t seen a neckerchief or his worn-out beige jacket for a while. It was nice to see him fit in his new role progressively. Merlin didn’t seem so nervous before council meetings. He rarely said silly things even though he couldn’t seem to restrain from speaking out of turn. He seemed to enjoy his new function too and that was what truly mattered.

The nobles still had trouble accepting him but they didn’t voice their contempt in fear of crossing the King. Arthur knew they would change their mind eventually. Merlin wasn’t a puppet he placed in the council as a reward. If he didn’t understand everything, he did help. It was only a matter of time before the nobles acknowledge his importance. The knights obeyed the King’s orders and had stopped eyeing him suspiciously. Except for Leon who’d always been the most zealous of them. Arthur was convinced he would understand soon. As for the commoners, some were still wary but most of them liked Merlin. His healing Orthus’ victims had helped, as Arthur had hoped. The sorcerer was also approachable. He did magic tricks to entertain the children, listened to the adult’s complains and did his best to solve their problems. In fact, he was doing so much that Arthur thought it unfair that Merlin wasn’t officially his equal. That might come, one day. There was no reason to rush things for now.

It was strange how much things had changed, so far from the future he’d imagined. He understood now how prejudiced he’d been against magic and he was working to educate himself as well as his people. It would take time yet he knew he could do it. Camelot was a better place now. A happier place for him too, thanks to Merlin. He’d always thought he’d found solace in Gwen’s arms but that was just another thing he’d been wrong about. And banishing Gwen was probably one of them too. He might not love her anymore but if he could find her, he would apologize and give her the opportunity to come back in Camelot if that was what she wanted.

He’d made mistakes and would surely continue in the future but he would strive to be a good King, just and generous. The King Merlin talked about and probably already saw in him. Arthur wasn’t sure he deserved it but even if he did, he wouldn’t lessen his efforts. And Merlin would stand by his side.


End file.
